The Thompsons
by TheCartoonFanatic01
Summary: AU. What if Homer and Marge weren't the parents of Bart, Lisa, and Maggie? With a workaholic father and an abusive mother who argue amongst one another, the children live a nightmarish home life. But when they move to Springfield, they find a new life at school, where they befriend Homer, one of the groundskeepers, and Marge, a second-grade schoolteacher. R&R! COMPLETE!
1. Springfield, Oregon

**A/N:** That's right, another original "Simpsons" fanfic from me! Hopefully this one lifts off the ground unlike the others. ...I think it will. I have faith in it.

* * *

Lisa Marie Thompson wasn't all that excited when her father dropped the message that the family was moving again. Moving was a redundant experience for her, and it always had a profound effect on her social life. Every time she had to move to another town, she would always find herself at the bottom of the ladder again, and she would have to work her way up again with much difficulty. After all, it was pretty hard to find people who shared an interest in saxophones, vegetarianism, and getting straight A's in class. In fact, she didn't _have_ any friends in the last town.

And unfortunately, Lisa would have to go through the same experience again. Hopefully people were easygoing in Springfield, she kept hoping.

At her right in the back seat was her older brother, Bartholomew JoJo Thompson, but everyone liked to call him 'Bart'. His spiky hair, mischievous grin, and penchant for causing trouble always helped him in gaining new friends everywhere they went. More than once was she jealous of him because of that. Not that it was all that surprising; the two always had a love-hate conflict between each other ever since Lisa was born.

At Lisa's left was little Margaret "Maggie" Janet Thompson, born over a year ago and the only one in the family innocent of the entire affair of moving. The infant was sleeping soundly in her baby seat. Lisa couldn't help but feel jealous of Maggie as well, for the baby was never aware of what truly happened around her and did nothing but sleep or devotedly suck her beloved pacifier that was a gift from Bart.

Lisa then glanced at the front seats, where her parents were.

Driving the sedan was her father, Brad Thompson. Brad was always a devoted, caring, loving father to the three of his children who meant well, but unfortunately, he always worked busy jobs with long hours and never had time for the kids anyway. And to add to his misfortune, he never was able to land a steady job anywhere.

In the passenger seat was her mother, Eliza Thompson. A housewife, Eliza never had a true job and stayed at home with the kids. Being in the same house as her was something Lisa and Bart agreed as being a living nightmare. A lazy drunkard and prone to violent outbursts of white-hot anger, she constantly had terrible things to say about them, and even about Maggie. To add to this psychological abuse, Eliza never bothered to take proper care of the children, leaving them to care of themselves. Bart and Lisa have since adapted to taking care of themselves, and practically became the parents of the defenseless Maggie.

Problems with her social life were the least of Lisa's problems. The bigger conflict was her home life, a conflict she cannot escape.

"We're almost there, kids!" announced Brad. "Springfield, Oregon!"

"Hooray," replied Lisa sarcastically.

"Lisa, don't be upset. You'll be able to find new friends there!"

"I doubt it," Eliza piped up. "She'll never be able to find friends. She's an antisocial freak who can't do anything right."

"Eliza, why can't you be supportive to your kids?!" Brad cried angrily.

"WHAT KIDS?!" Eliza screamed back. "THEY'RE NEVER MY KIDS! THEY NEVER **WERE**!"

Brad and Eliza continued to argue for the rest of the trip. Lisa sighed and struggled to hold back tears. Whenever her dad was home, he would frequently get into heated arguments with her mom, arguments that she, Bart, and Maggie would get caught up in. It was a painful home life. Sometimes Lisa wondered why her parents weren't divorced yet. But to choose between a dad that was absent most of the time and a mom that was heavily psychologically abusive, should such an event happen, Lisa wanted to pick the alternative of running away.

"Psst, Lis!"

Lisa turned to look at Bart, and he made a funny face at her. Lisa giggled quietly; whenever she and Bart got along, he would always cheer her up with comic acts. Lisa sensed a future in Bart as a comedian. That is, if his troublemaking actions didn't affect his performance record at school.

Minutes passed, and finally, the Thompson family saw the towering twin smokestacks that were the trademark of the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant. Bart and Lisa gaped in awe as the sedan passed the two gargantuan towers that seemed more like metallic giants to them rather than smokestacks.

When the car left the territory belonging to the plant and climbed up a hill, Lisa gasped in awe the moment she saw the overview of Springfield, Oregon slowly appear. From afar, it was a majestic sight to see the entire town from such a vantage point such as the hill. Combined with the mountains surrounding most of the town and the rising sun, it was a beautiful view.

_"Maybe living here might not be so bad,"_ thought Lisa.

* * *

It didn't take long for the Thompson car to drive into downtown Springfield. The buildings reminded Lisa of any other town she had been at, all a bit close together and a bit outdated, but still radiating a fresh shine signifying pride of its history.

Lisa suddenly lurched forward a bit. She didn't notice that the car made a stop. Looking around, she saw that they were in a parking lot. The only building claiming this lot was a one-story building called the Kwik-E-Mart. Its simple sign and presence of a moderate amount of customers made it look welcoming.

"Jeez, you never work at your parking!" cried Eliza. "GOD!"

"Well, _excuse me_ for being one point over the passing limit during my driving tests!" Brad screamed back before getting out of the car, muttering angrily. Bart and Lisa unbuckled their seatbelts, hoping to follow their father, when Eliza spoke as she took out a small cigarette.

"Yeah, that's right, go away! I don't want to be in the same car as you bastards anyway!"

Lisa instinctively unbuckled Maggie from her baby seat and carried her along as she and Bart followed Brad toward the Kwik-E-Mart. Going inside, Bart and Lisa gasped upon smelling the nice, fresh scent that filled their nostrils. They've been inside numerous convenience stores before, but this one was..._extraordinary_. They could instantly tell even from the good smell.

"Dad, this place smells good!" Bart said.

"Really?" asked Brad, sniffing for himself. "Hm, smells like any other convenience store. Ah well, you kids go look for what you want. But be quick."

Bart and Lisa nodded and began exploring the Kwik-E-Mart, while Brad walked around, searching for any supplies while carrying Maggie. Bart browsed the aisles, while Lisa merely examined a poster that piqued her interest, which said in bold letters, 'MEAT IS MURDER!' Underneath was a picture of a herd of cows being menaced by a hand holding a shiny cleaver.

"Ah, I see you like my pro-vegetarianism poster."

Lisa turned to the register counter, where the clerk, a dark-skinned man with light-gray hair and a small mustache and wearing a black undershirt, a green sweater, and light-yellow jeans, was looking back at her, cracking a small grin. She immediately identified him as being of Indian descent due to his accent, somewhat curly hair, and the fact that there were a couple of statues of Hindu deities on the table behind him.

"Yeah, I like it," she replied. "Are you a vegetarian?"

"Why, yes I am, and proud of it!" the clerk said.

"I'm a vegetarian too!"

"Ah, so you are." The clerk examined her curiously. "You know, you don't look like you're around from here. Where do you come from?"

"I was born in Austin, Texas, but my family moves around a lot. The last town I was in was Boise, Idaho."

The clerk nodded. "I see. May I ask, what's your name, little miss?"

"Lisa Marie Thompson, eight years old, born on May 9, 1982."

"Ah, quite formal, quite formal. My name's Apu Nahasapeemapetilon."

Before she could stop herself, Lisa unleashed a giggle. But then, she realized what she was doing and covered her mouth. She hoped the giggle didn't offend Apu. If it did, then she just blew her first chance at finding a friend here. To her relief, Apu smiled.

"I know, my surname's ridiculously long. So Lisa, you plan to stay here?"

"Hopefully for a while, yeah."

"Well then, be sure to drop by at the Kwik-E-Mart! It's the only one here, and I'll be here."

"Gee, thanks," replied Lisa sheepishly.

Just then, Brad and Bart, the former of which was still carrying Maggie, arrived, carrying a few sacks of food and supplies. Apu flashed a brief smile at Lisa before scanning the items. Noticing that exchange, Bart approached Lisa.

"Who's your new friend?" he asked.

"His name's Apu," replied Lisa. She smiled a wide smile of happiness. If she could immediately find a vegetarian here, in a town that has a great view from afar, then who knows what other people that share her interests she'll be able to find at Springfield. "Maybe I'm gonna like living here."

* * *

**A/N:** Did you enjoy? Hope so.

Well, hope you enjoyed this first chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	2. The Rat's Nest

**Disclaimer:** I forgot! I don't own "The Simpsons"! It'd be a dream to me if I actually did...

* * *

Finally, after a few more minutes worth of driving from the Kwik-E-Mart, Brad's sedan pulled over in the parkway of a one-story house. The moment Lisa first saw it, she had a visceral feeling that she wouldn't last three minutes in there. It was a bit rundown, with the paint on the walls peeling and cracked, the glass of one window cracked, the fence door swinging loosely with an eerie creak, and the front yard full of nothing but dead, brown grass and a small pile of unattended bricks that didn't seem to have any purpose whatsoever. In fact, _all_ of the houses looked this way, dangerously close to imploding on themselves and completely devoid of any love from their owners. It was no wonder there was a sign reading 'Rat's Nest Neighborhood'.

"Well, it's no Colorado, but it'll do," Brad said optimistically. Lisa saw Eliza's eyes roll, accompanied by a grim scoff. Brad's nostrils flared, but then he calmed down, shut off the car's engine, and stepped out of the sedan. The rest of the family followed suit, and when Lisa stepped out, a putrid stench filled her nostrils immediately, assaulting her lungs and causing her to nearly retch. Bart also paled considerably, but for some odd reason, Brad, Eliza, and Maggie didn't seem to notice.

The family then spent the next several minutes unpacking the trunk of the sedan of the luggage and bags that occupied it. Not a single sentence was spoken during the entire affair; that is, until Lisa, trying to help her mother by dragging a large luggage bag herself, accidentally dropped it on Eliza's foot.

"ARGH! GODDAMN IT, YOU CLUMSY, WEAK **BASTARD**!" Eliza screamed. "CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT?!"

"I was just trying to help you with that luggage," Lisa replied in a low voice, trembling.

"I CAN DO IT BY MYSELF! GOD, WHY CAN'T DO AS YOU'RE TOLD AND SHUT UP?!"

Brad instantly overheard the barrage of Eliza's insults at Lisa and stepped forward in defense of his daughter. "Eliza, Lisa was just trying to help," he said calmly, but his nostrils were flared, an instant sign that he was infuriated.

"HELP MY ASS!" shrieked Eliza. "THIS GIRL CAN'T DO **SHIT**!"

"WHY DO YOU KEEP TALKING ABOUT OUR DAUGHTER LIKE THAT?!" Brad roared.

"SHE'S **NOT** MY DAUGHTER! YOU KNOW WHAT SHE IS TO ME? SHE'S THE LITTLE BUNDLE OF MISERY THAT HOPPED INTO MY LIFE AND RUINED IT!"

As Brad and Eliza continued to throw angered yells at each other, Lisa walked into the house, struggling to keep her tears of sadness at bay. The moment she reached what was to be her bedroom, she collapsed at the corner of a wall and started crying. It has always been like this her entire life. Her mother had nothing to say to her that was at least a hint of praise, and their parents never spent a day without arguing. It helped to know that her father always stepped in to defend her, but the fact that he always had to go to work and leave her and her siblings under the care of that monster of a mother made him as terrible of a parent.

What made things even more confusing and infuriating was the fact that Eliza always had a special place in her heart, full of hatred and loathing. This place was always reserved just for Lisa. The eight-year-old didn't know why this was so. After all, Bart was the firstborn, why wasn't _he_ the usual target of Eliza's anger? All the more to be a bit jealous of her brother...

"Hey, Lis." Bart entered the room, carrying Maggie. Setting the infant down, the ten-year-old sat next to his weeping sister and patted her back soothingly. "There, there, it's okay."

"No, no it's _not_," Lisa replied between sobs. "I don't know why I'm living this life! Mom hates me, Dad is usually never there to defend me, and when he is, they instantly whip up a storm of arguments. ...How do _you_ handle it, Bart?"

"Huh?"

"You never seem to be affected by Mom and Dad. Your social skills are always off the chart. Me, I'm the loner, the loser."

"I _am_ affected by Mom and Dad," replied Bart honestly. "Why do you think I prank people? It's means of venting out my frustration at life."

"And Mom says she hates me the most. She just said that the moment I was born, her life was ruined."

"Well, I don't know what's up with that. You remember me telling you of the time Mom was _much_ nicer."

"Yeah." Lisa smiled a bit; for an avid drinker and smoker, Eliza's looks didn't seem to be hampered by those addictions. She always looked like a gentle, loving soul, and the thought of her actually living up to that personality was something that wasn't difficult to imagine. It was actually a thought Lisa looked forward to seeing in becoming a reality.

"You said that that all changed when _I_ was born," Lisa said.

"Yeah. Well, not immediately after; she was still nice after you were born. A couple of years later and she suddenly turned foul. I really don't know why that was so, Lis. All we've gotta do is live with it and hope that something turns the tide in our favor."

"I don't know if I can live with it anymore."

"Well, when you're in a dark, dark spot, just be sure to call out for me. Know that I'm _always_ here for you."

Lisa smiled a wide smile. "Thanks, Bart," she said. And with that, the two siblings hugged each other tightly. Parting, they then looked at Maggie, who had now fallen asleep next to the luggage bag containing Lisa's belongings.

"You know," Bart said, "out of us, Maggie's the lucky one. She doesn't recognize what's really going on around her."

"I feel bad for her," replied Lisa. "She'll eventually grow up and live our lives."

"Well, by that time, we'd have become adults and graduated school. We can just adopt her and raise her by ourselves. How hard can it be? After all, we're doing it right now."

"Sounds like a good idea."

Lisa walked up to the luggage, zipped it open, procured a blanket, and placed it over Maggie, gently tucking her sister in. She and Bart both smiled warmly at the sleeping baby and sat against the wall, watching her for the rest of the hour.

* * *

The following evening, Lisa ventured out of the house to examine the neighborhood she would now have to call home. The terrible smell still remained in the air, lingering over the eight-year-old like some sort of ravenous creature. Out of all the neighborhoods she lived in her entire life, Lisa unanimously classified the Rat's Nest as being the worst of all of them. All she had to do is see a swarm of rats and her fears of dying here would be confirmed.

A gang of oversized rats suddenly appeared, scurrying down the street and into an open sewer drain. Lisa instantly relieved her stomach of its contents, unceremoniously spraying the dead grass with it all. Coughing, Lisa wiped her lips and examined the house at her left. There was some yelling going on inside, and it sounded dead serious.

Lisa heard the front door open with a creak, and she watched as a boy around her age step out of the house, taking deep breaths as the yelling raged on inside. He had spiky crimson hair and wore a dark-purple vest, a white shirt, and blue jeans. To Lisa, he looked extremely _handsome_. She tried not to blush the moment the boy noticed her.

"Oh, hey," he greeted, speaking in an Irish accent. "I see you're one of the new neighbors."

"Yeah, that's me," Lisa replied nervously, giggling. To her relief, the boy actually returned the giggle.

"Oh, pardon me! The name's Colin. Colin O'Sullivan."

"Lisa Thompson. It's nice to meet you, Colin. Say, what's up with the...you know, _yelling_?" She gestured at Colin's house to clarify her point.

"Oh, just my parents arguing again. It happens all the time. I see you're no different."

"Oh. You saw what happened earlier."

"You mean you accidentally dropping that bag on your mom's foot, her yelling at you, and then your parents arguing? Yeah, all of it. Don't worry about it; about everyone living here has got some sort of issue going on in their family. You can call this place a haven for dysfunctional families."

"_Everyone_ here has got a family issue?" Lisa asked in awe, smiling. "_Wow_. Now I don't feel so alone!"

Colin chuckled. "You're not the first person to say that!" His eyes then widened in realization. "Say, all of the children here have formed some sort of club, including me. We all support each other in case something bad goes down inside their house. Maybe you can join!"

Lisa's smile grew even wider. "Would I? Of _course_! Where and when do you guys meet?"

"Typically anywhere here, every day. You'll know when you see us."

"Good! I'll see you soon!"

"Yeah, see you soon," replied Colin, smiling.

Just then, a voice came from Colin's house. "COLIN, WHERE THE HELL ARE YA?!"

"Coming, pa!" Colin then turned to Lisa. "Gotta go. See ya!"

And with that, he ran back into the house. Lisa just stood there, the smile still on her face. In just one day, she made two friends, and would likely get more tomorrow. Despite the living conditions of the Rat's Nest, Lisa couldn't actually wait for tomorrow to come.

* * *

**A/N:** Wow, I never expected my story to get a decent amount of reviews! The "Simpsons" community branch has been low with good stories and reviewers, and to see this success is kinda surprising to me! Thanks everyone, for reviewing:

_**CMR Rosa [You'll see.]**_

_**Perry is Cato**_

_**Ariddle-Ascare [Here's the continuation! **_**:)_]_**

**_Da Darkest Knight_**

**_Galaxina-the-Seedrian [Let's see, how old are you, then?]_**

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	3. Getting Some New Friends

Lisa examined the calendar Brad purchased back at Boise. In a few days, it would be the first day at a new school. Again. She hoped that Colin would be attending the same school as her. What was the name of the school Brad signed her up on again? ...Ah yes, Springfield Elementary! Judging by the research she made on her nifty laptop, it was a decent-enough school. Hopefully it was decent enough for her to gain some new friends, and maybe much more this time.

She sighed and looked at the sofa Brad and Bart set up. Sitting on it was Eliza, who was currently sleeping soundlessly, a cigarette hanging loosely from her mouth and a bottle of Duff beer clutched in one hand. A nearby Maggie was eyeing Eliza's cigarette with interest, and then she started to reach for it... But Bart, who was sitting at the kitchen table nearby, quickly noticed, grabbed his infant sister, and carried her away from the cigarette. Their eyes met, and Bart winked, which was responded by a soft smile from Lisa, who then walked over to the front window and glanced out of it.

It was an unpleasant night last night. Lisa stayed awake for the entire night, armed with nothing but an outdated, broken broomstick to keep the invading rats at bay. The lack of sleep left the eight-year-old with black circles around her eyes, almost resembling makeup to make her look like a Goth or something.

Just then, movement crept into the corner of Lisa's eye. Looking at her left, she saw Colin leading a small group of children onto his front yard. In the daylight, Colin looked even more handsome... Lisa strolled over to the front door, produced a set of keys from a nearby basket, and unlocked the door. Before she could open it, Eliza's cold voice resonated all around the house.

"Where do ya think you're goin'?"

"Just going to meet up with some new friends," Lisa replied meekly.

She heard her mother scoff. Then, "I doubt it. ...Go on, get outta here. Get hit by a truck for all I care."

Lisa exhaled deeply and opened the door. She was greeted with the horrible stench that was now the trademark of the Rat's Nest, but this time, she forced her lungs to fight off the smell as she walked over towards Colin's front yard. Several kids noticed her approaching the group.

"Who's _she_?" asked an incredibly pale boy with curly hair and wearing a light-blue shirt and light-pink pants.

Colin looked at Lisa and smiled; she blushed. "New girl," he replied. "Hey, Lisa, come join us!"

Lisa nodded sheepishly, climbed over the poorly-built wooden fence that separated her house from Colin's, and approached the group.

"Hi," she greeted.

She heard some low mutters of "Hi" or otherwise gossip undoubtedly related to her. Lisa frowned, hoping that she didn't buy her way into the world of unpopularity again. To her relief, Colin came to her defense.

"Come on, guys, that's no way to treat a newcomer. Say hello to Lisa!"

"Hi, Lisa," the other children said.

"Hey, Lisa," the pale boy said, a little late.

Colin spent the next several minutes introducing Lisa to the group. She made mental notes of all the members of the children living in the Rat's Nest:

Siblings Patches and Poor Violet were probably the poorest children to live in the Rat's Nest, even by the neighborhood's standards. Patches's real name is never known, as his penchant for sewing skillfully and also scratching the patches of nettle stings was well-known around the children and even his sister. The two were abandoned by their biological mother and forced to fend for themselves, as their father was already out of the picture before their birth, and they were only able to get a house with the help of the other children, who came to support them and donate money to them.

Brothers Ronaldo and Pepi Fernandez, both Brazilian natives, moved to the U.S. in hopes of living 'the American dream', but these hopes vanished because of their parents' difficulty in maintaining a job in the country and the family moved to the Rat's Nest. Like Lisa, their parents quarreled with one another every day and even sometimes physically abused each other, with the two sometimes caught up in the middle of the fight. Pepi now seemed to look up to the older Ronaldo as his greatest role model and protector.

Charlie Johnston was probably the most innocent one out of the group. He seemed oblivious to all of the problems around him and always had an extremely wide smile on his face. However, Colin informed Lisa that in Charlie's household, his parents were physically abusive towards him and that his innocent personality was just means of covering up his grief and fear of his parents.

Siblings Mary, Jitney, Whitney, Crystal Meth, Dubya, Incest, International Harvester, and Birthday Spuckler were all raised by hillbilly folk. The hardships of poverty, which have plagued them for years, have left them with a common, singular desire for wealth and luxury.

And last but not least was the pale boy, Wendell Borton. His mother died when she gave birth to him, and his father was extremely physically abusive towards him. His situation at home shaped him into a grim, upset, easily annoyed boy.

Lisa felt bad for considering the children's household conflicts as good news for her.

"So, that's the group," Colin concluded. "And now, Lisa Thompson, you're officially a member of our group!"

"YAY!" the other children shouted.

"Hooray," Wendell said sarcastically, once again a little late.

"So, what is it that you guys do?" asked Lisa.

"Just talk about our problems and what we want in life," replied Mary Spuckler.

The group gathered around on the front porch of Colin's house and sat down on chairs or the wooden floor, otherwise leaning against the wooden beams. Lisa was seated next to Colin, and she blushed at his presence.

"So, Lisa," said Ronaldo, "what's your problem at home?"

Lisa cleared her throat to mask her nervous gulping. She had never explained her household problems to anyone before. But now, here was her chance to make friends, and she had to be honest.

"Well, I've got parents, an older brother named Bart, and a baby sister named Maggie," she explained. "See, before I was born, my parents were the average parents, nice, gentle, and loving. But when I was born, all hell broke loose from my mom. I never knew why, but she treated me and my siblings like _trash_. As for my dad, he does little to stop it. He cares for us and would do anything for us, but the problem is that he's always at work. In fact, he's looking for a job today, and Bart and Maggie are in the house with her, having to suffer at what irresponsibility she throws at them."

"Wow," Crystal Meth said. "That's just dang bad!"

"I know. And for some reason, my mom hates me the most. She thinks I ruined her life the moment I was born."

"Ouch. Now that's REALLY harsh," Poor Violet replied. She leaned forward and touched Lisa's hand. "Don't worry, Lisa, just know that we're all here for you when you need it."

Lisa smiled. Not only did she find a large group of friends, but she had friends who have the same situation as her and therefore understand her predicament. It was too good to be true!

"Lisa, what do _you_ want in your life?" asked Colin.

"What do I _want_ in life?" Lisa repeated. "Well, I want a lot of things. Friends, but of course I now have that. Not moving away from here, like we always do. A better means of living-" This earned nods of approval and agreement from the others. "A good future. But what I want the most, what I _really_ want the most, is my mom to _love_ me. My mom taking care of me, telling me that everything's gonna be okay, hugging me when I'm in need, tucking me in bed every night...just saying how much she _loves_ me. I just want my mom."

Everyone stared back at her with the most teary and sympathetic eyes. Even Wendell looked emotional. Colin clapped slowly, and it was followed by an applause from the others, save for Wendell, who just sat there, rigid, looking at Lisa curiously. But Lisa didn't notice him. Instead, she just addressed everyone else, relishing in the joyous attention she was getting. For once in her life, she was confident that her life was gonna take a turn for the better here.

She was _definitely_ gonna like it here in Springfield.

* * *

The rest of the day was spent with the children having fun. There were woods nearby, and the children explored them for over an hour. Lisa used her knowledge of animals to teach the younger kids like Charlie and Pepi about the lizards that scurried about and the birds that were perched on the tree branches. The group shortly stumbled upon a freshwater lake which they swam in, pretending it was a swimming pool. And finally, the kids trekked to a wide plain that was part of a territory that belonged to the Spucklers, spending hours lying on the ground, peacefully examining the small banks of clouds and deducing what kind of objects they looked like. Lisa couldn't believe that she'd have this much fun anywhere!

When the sun began to set over the horizon, the children decided it was time to go home. Lisa bade all of her friends farewell, until only Colin remained.

"I had fun, Colin," Lisa said.

"Good!" replied Colin optimistically. "And it looks like everyone likes you! Even Wendell, and he's the moody, quiet type of guy."

Lisa nodded in agreement. Then, she decided to ask hopefully, "Colin, do you attend Springfield Elementary School?"

To her relief, the reply was, "Yes, and so does everyone else. We hope to see you there!"

"I think you will," replied Lisa, smiling. She then looked at the sky. The last traces of sunlight were present, and the stars was beginning to dominate the sky. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," Colin said in agreement, smiling. Lisa smiled back, and watched as Colin walked over to his house, which was now occupied by furious yelling. Before he could step inside, Colin glanced at Lisa and waved at her. Lisa waved back, just before he entered his house. Letting out a happy, contented sigh, Lisa prepared to go inside her own house and reenter Eliza's wrath when a new voice addressed her.

"D'you have a moment?"

Lisa looked at the parkway and saw Wendell standing there. He was wearing a dark-gray, overlarge sweater.

"Yeah, sure," Lisa replied, walking over to Wendell. "What's up, Wendell?"

Wendell exhaled deeply and said, "I liked that speech about what you want in life. I really did."

"Really? Well, thanks then."

"Yeah." Wendell was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I know how you feel."

Lisa was taken aback by this sentence. "Come again?" she asked.

"I know _exactly_ what you mean when you want your mom to love you. I have similar desires." Wendell looked up at the sky and sighed. "I never knew _my_ mom. She died bringing me to life. And now, I'm stuck with a hateful dad. I had hopes that my dad would love me, but that was never true. He hates me, and he'll always hate me. I just know it. The thing I wish for now is for my mom to just come back. To come back and love me."

"Wendell," Lisa said sympathetically, "your mom's dead."

"I know," replied Wendell. "But I just wish that maybe she can just fly down from Heaven once in a while and visit me. I just want to see her. I never even knew what she looked like."

Lisa put a hand on his shoulder. "You will," she said. "In time."

Wendell looked back at her and smiled, and Lisa smiled back. Just then, a loud voice called out, "WENDELL, WHERE THE HELL ARE YA? GET BACK HERE!"

"Crap, it's my dad." Wendell looked at Lisa. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, I'll see you," Lisa replied. And with that, Wendell ran off to his house. Lisa did the same, feeling much more happier than yesterday.

* * *

**A/N:** YAY, Lisa has friends! What other joys will she experience in Springfield?

I'd like to thank the following for reviewing:

_**D.E.W.P. [Thanks!]**_

_**Hi14 [Here's the update.]**_

_**femalecenobite22 (guest reviewer) [Thanks for your review! I liked it!]**_

**_Galaxina-the-Seedrian [Well, I don't understand why your parents forbid you to watch the show. I'm sixteen and an avid viewer of "The Simpsons"! ...You don't happen to be a Mormon, are you?]_**

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	4. Springfield Elementary School

Lisa traveled down the hallway leading from the family bedrooms to the poorly-kept kitchen, where she found Bart feeding Maggie with large ease and Eliza sitting on the sofa like a lazy sloth, watching the somewhat poor-quality TV that had been in the family for years. As usual, Brad wasn't in the house, having gone to find another job. In a span of three minutes, the eight-year-old expertly set up her breakfast and started eating cereal that Brad purchased from the Kwik-E-Mart. Its taste, combined with the well-kept milk the family had been keeping for a few days, was marvelous, but it didn't help to soothe Lisa's nerves.

Today was their first day of school. There was no need for a parent-teacher greeting conference, for Brad was able to communicate with Springfield Elementary School's principal, respected Vietnam War veteran Seymour Skinner, who approved Bart and Lisa's entrances. Still, however, Lisa was nervous. She had been able to make friends at the Kwik-E-Mart and the Rat's Nest, but school would be different. It was like the food pyramid. The best were at the top, the worst deep down at the bottom. And Lisa never coped well with being at the bottom of the ladder.

Finally finishing her cereal, Lisa put the bowl in the sink and returned the containers to their respective places before saying to Bart, "Well, time to go?"

"Yeah," Bart replied. He then lifted Maggie from her baby-seat and carried her along as he and Lisa prepared their backpacks. They were planning to bring her along and drop her off at a daycare located near Springfield Elementary, which Maggie had been signed up for as a new applicant.

However, once their backpacks were ready and Bart and Lisa were prepared to leave the house with Maggie, Eliza moaned out angrily, "Where the hell do ya think _you two_ are going?" A lot of emphasis was put on 'you two', which was laced with a cold loathing that was all too familiar with Bart and Lisa.

The two turned around and saw Eliza staring hatefully at them from the sofa.

"We're going to school," Lisa replied calmly.

"I have _yet_ to hear about you two being allowed to go to school here," spat Eliza. "It'd be more simpler if you told me you were running away. By all means, go ahead. Like I care about where you three bastards will wind up at."

"We're not running away," Bart said. "We're going to school."

"You just can't stop lying, will you, you stupid bastard? HA! You children make me SICK."

Lisa struggled to maintain her patience. "We're going to _school_. That's the truth, Mom."

She had said the wrong word to refer Eliza as. The woman suddenly became rigid, and a second later, she abruptly stood up and marched towards the three children, her footsteps booming across the house. Bart, Lisa, and even Maggie could feel Eliza's rising anger come up to them.

"STOP CALLING ME YOUR MOM, YOU BASTARD!" Eliza shrieked. "I WAS **NEVER** YOUR MOM!" The volume of her voice suddenly became normal, but the anger was far from gone. Her eyes were bloodshot, and a corner of her eye was twitching. "You know, out of all of you three, you're the _worst of them all_."

"Hey, leave her alone!" cried Bart. "_I'm_ the firstborn, doesn't that put me to more blame than her?!"

Eliza's hand suddenly flew across Bart's face in a blur, and the ten-year-old cried out in pain, clutching his cheek as a tear flowed from his eye.

"Watch your mouth, ya damn troublemaker," snarled Eliza. "Don't think that you're spared from this." She then turned to Lisa. "You never fail to ruin my life, little girl. Why can't you just crawl away and DIE already?"

Honestly, Lisa didn't know the answer to that rhetorical question. She had tried many times to run away, but for some mysterious reason, she found herself crawling back to this horrific family. It was such a strange situation. But Lisa knew that she had to answer right away, or otherwise face more of her mother's wrath. ...Then again, she'd face her wrath if she answered, anyway.

It was too late to answer now. Eliza suddenly grabbed Lisa's hair, clutched it tightly, and yanked on it, though with not enough strength to tear it out of the roots. Lisa screamed, knowing that this was intentional, for Eliza wanted her to feel as much pain as possible. But it was strange; tearing the hair out of one's roots would be much more painful. Why wouldn't Eliza just go with that? This wasn't the first time Lisa's scalp went through this kind of abuse, and from her experience, Lisa had a feeling that there was an underlying reason as to why she hasn't gone bald yet.

"I. HATE. YOU."

That was Eliza said before releasing her grip on Lisa's hair. The eight-year-old clutched her scalp and massaged it, struggling to not cry. Bart wrapped an arm around Lisa while he watched Eliza with anger as she returned to the sofa. Maggie, sensing the gravity of the situation, began to whimper. Not wanting to make the situation much worse than it already was, Bart grabbed the keys from the basket, unlocked the front door, and ushered his sisters out of the house. As he prepared to close the door and lock it, he heard Eliza's voice.

"Don't come back _this_ time!"

"Trust me, we won't," Bart muttered as he closed the door. But he knew in his heart that, for some reason, he was wrong.

* * *

"You okay, Lis?" Bart asked as he rubbed his cheek. Lisa was still massaging her scalp with one hand while clutching one of her backpack straps with the other.

"Yeah," replied Lisa, the tears flowing from her face. Having gone through six years of this kind of abuse, Lisa had taught herself to not cry and make a scene. However, the sadness was still large in quantity. She didn't know if she could go with it anymore.

Finally, she spoke up, "D'you think we should _really_ run away?"

"That's a rhetorical question," replied Bart, smiling softly. "But then again, Dad will be devastated. He cares for us, after all."

"Well, not enough to leave us with that _bitch_," Lisa said, using a word she heard Eliza use a few years back. "I wonder why they haven't divorced yet..."

"Dunno. But if that were to happen, I'd actually have no idea who to pick. An abusive mother or a father who's always at work all day and sometimes all night. Makes me wish Grandpa and Grandma Thompson were still alive."

Grandpa and Grandma Thompson were obviously Bart, Lisa, and Maggie's paternal grandparents, both of whom intensely cared for the three like they were their own children. Unfortunately, the two were killed in a tragic car accident, weeks before the family first moved away.

"Yeah," agreed Lisa. "They would've adopted us. They would've cared for us like no other parent." She sighed heavily. "I miss them."

"I miss 'em too."

* * *

The two were silent as they continued to walk down the sidewalk with Maggie. Maggie's daycare was just a few blocks away. They had just left the Rat's Nest and walked deeper into the suburban division of Springfield. Compared to the Rat's Nest, the rest of the suburbs were well-kept and cleaned. The houses were obviously loved by their owners, the front yards were bursting with life with their grass and sometimes gardens, and a couple of civilians that were outside watering their lawns all looked extremely friendly.

"Hi-diddly-ho, childreninos!" a voice greeted. The three turned to see a man with brown hair and a ridiculously-large mustache, wearing a pair of glasses, a comfortable-looking green woolen sweater, and gray jeans.

The man chuckled and waved at them kindly. "You three look like you came out of the Rat's Nest or something," he said.

"That's because we_ are_ from the Rat's Nest," replied Lisa.

The man's eyes widened and he sputtered nonsense for a bit before saying, "Well, that's a shame. That place is practically a gateway to the diddly depths of Hell!" He shuddered, as if having a fear of the word 'Hell', and then examined the children closely. "You three look like you're from out of town."

"Boise, Idaho, to be exact," Lisa said.

"Definitely from out of town. Well, I'm glad you're in Springfield, even if you've diddly-unfortunately landed yourselves in the Rat's Nest. Name's Ned Flanders, avid Christian and devoted husband and father of two. What might your names be?"

"I'm Lisa Thompson, and this is my older brother Bart-"

"How're ya doing, man?"

"-and my little sister Maggie."

Maggie sucked her pacifier twice in greeting.

"Well, nice to meet you three. Now, I think you best be moving along now. From the looks of your backpacks, you're doodily-dashing your way to school!"

"That's right. We'll see you, Mr. Flanders!"

"Okilly-dokilly! Bye!" Flanders called, waving.

The moment Flanders was out of earshot, Bart commented, "What a dork!"

"I think he was nice," replied Lisa.

After the three walked down two more houses, a nice-looking (by Bart and Lisa's standards) station wagon appeared on the street and parked itself at Flanders's parkway. The three decided to watch as a redheaded woman stepped out of the car, followed by two boys with hair that matched their mother's, just with different shades. Lisa couldn't help but feel a bit envious as the two boys hugged their parents lovingly.

* * *

After several more minutes of walking, Bart and Lisa finally reached their destination: Springfield Elementary School, a nice-looking one-story building with an additional, smaller floor above the main building; its sign was nailed over the door, radiating some sort of light of pride with its simple, capitalized, bold lettering. Just a few minutes earlier, they had dropped off Maggie at the daycare center. They were able to do this unnoticed; the lazy, preoccupied receptionist never seemed to notice the fact that the infant had been dropped off by her two older siblings without the presence of an adult.

"Alright, according to the letter Mr. Skinner sent us," Lisa said, taking out a note from her backpack and reading it, "we should meet him at his office first."

"Pfft, he'd better not give us some bull listing of the school's rules and expectations," replied Bart.

"Of course he will, Bart. After all, we're new students."

"Damn, that's _always_ boring!"

The two strolled into the school, but upon getting past the doors, they stopped.

"Um, where would the principal's office be, Lis?" asked Bart.

"I don't know." Lisa looked at the letter. "Mr. Skinner's letter didn't provide a map."

"Great. Now I hate this school already!"

"Are you two lost?" a new voice asked.

Lisa and Bart looked up and saw a young man walking towards them. He looked like one of the pleasant, cuddly teddy-bear-personality-types, being a bit round at the abdomen but sporting a kind, honest smile and unkempt brown hair. He was wearing a light-green cap, light-green overalls, and a green T-shirt underneath. In his right hand was a half-wet mop.

"Yeah, would you mind showing us directions to the principal's office?" Lisa asked.

"Don't mind if I do," the man replied. "Just go down the main hallway, then go left, and the door to the office will be the third at your right."

"Thanks, mister!" Lisa said.

"You're welcome. I'm gonna assume you two are new students here."

"Yep, that's us all right," Bart replied, looking a bit sullen at the statement. The man noticed this expression and his smile grew wider.

"Hey, don't grieve, young man! You'll find out that staying at Springfield Elementary will be a fun experience, or my name isn't Assistant Groundskeeper Homer J. Simpson!"

* * *

Following Homer's directions to heart, Lisa and Bart finally found Principal Skinner's office. During the walk, Lisa looked into the classrooms and saw children sitting at their desks, listening to their teachers as they taught today's lessons. Some looked bored, others had their interest piqued. The eight-year-old was able to identify Colin and Wendell in the same classroom, and Mary in another.

Lisa knocked on the office door thrice, to which a voice responded, "Come on in."

Lisa opened the door, revealing a stern-looking middle-aged man wearing a light-blue suit and radiating a decades-old but still-ripe pride and intimidation. Though he smiled at the two of them, Bart and Lisa had a feeling that it might've been more of a smirk.

"Ah, you two must be Lisa Marie and Bartholomew JoJo Thompson," Principal Seymour Skinner said.

"That's us," Lisa replied, giggling nervously as she and Bart walked into his office and sat down on the two chairs provided for them. Principal Skinner sat down on his chair, which was at the opposite of a polished wooden desk whose surface held fancy-looking papers, writing utensils, minor merchandise, and golden nameplate. Lisa and Bart gazed up at the wall behind Skinner and saw the many awards decorating it, many educational, but some of them military-related.

"So, you two will be starting learning sessions at Springfield Elementary as of today," Skinner said. "First thing's first, let me lay down a few rules-"

"Oh, boy," said Bart sarcastically, "here we go."

Skinner shot him a look that would've torn Bart in half like a fragile piece of paper. "First, we do NOT tolerate any smart-aleck behavior like that." Bart felt himself go rigid upon hearing the tone of Skinner's voice. "Second, we recognize any and all problems for new students, be they medical, behavioral, familial, etc. Tell me, anything about you two I should know about that your father hasn't mentioned to me?"

Lisa wanted to tell him all about the abuse she and her siblings have gone through at the hands of their mother, ensure that the nightmare that she called her life would end, but an unknown force compelled her to simply reply in an honest voice, "No."

"Very good. Okay, third, I expect everyone to be at class on time. If I see one of you wandering around the hallways during class hours without a pass, it will be immediately classified as truancy and you will be sent to detention. Do I make myself clear on that?" Bart and Lisa nodded silently, to which Skinner continued.

"Fourth, we at Springfield Elementary strive to ensure that you learn, or otherwise have the material _stuffed_ into you." Bart and Lisa shuddered at the last statement; Skinner noticed. "Oh, don't be scared. Anything that is above a D is acceptable, we're not military school. _But_ unless you have a reasonable excuse, you must pay attention at ALL TIMES. Otherwise we'll HAVE to make it military school for you." Bart and Lisa shuddered again.

"Fifth...we want you to have a fun time." Skinner smiled kindly, to which Lisa and Bart responded with nervous smiles of their own, obviously scared by the seriousness of their new principal. Even Bart felt intimidated into relenting at committing pranks.

"Alright, now that that's out of the way, I'll send you to your classrooms. Bart, you'll be taught by Edna Krabappel at Room 413. Lisa, you'll be taught by Marge Bouvier at Room 201."

"But we don't know where the rooms are," Lisa said.

"Yeah, man, you never gave us a map!" exclaimed Bart.

"Yeah, I've realized that a long time ago, children. I sincerely apologize for that; budget cuts disallowed the schools to even have maps. Fortunately, you'll be escorted by Groundskeeper Willie."

The door opened, revealing a miserly man with red hair at the temples and a red mustache and beard. Like Homer, he was wearing overalls and a shirt underneath, but the overalls were blue and the shirt white with grime.

"Ach, Willie knows this school better than the palm of me hand!" Willie exclaimed in a Scottish accent. He then gazed at his palm and raised an eyebrow, muttering, "Huh? Never knew _that_ was there..."

* * *

**A/N:** And Homer has entered the picture! Next, we'll meet Marge!

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**CMR Rosa**_

_**D.E.W.P. [Thanks for the review!]**_

_**Hi14 [Hm, I don't think it was THAT super-soon, but thanks! **_**:)_]_**

**_SdshwFrk (guest reviewer)_**

**_Galaxina-the-Seedrian [Here's more!]_**

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	5. Lisa's New Teacher

Saying her goodbyes to Bart, Lisa charily opened the door to Room 201 and stepped inside. Everyone's heads were drawn towards her like a magnet, and Lisa felt the heat slowly shoot up in her body as she smiled nervously at the students. When the smile was unanswered, the eight-year-old turned her head toward the teacher's desk, only to find it unoccupied. Even more beads of sweat developed on Lisa's forehead.

_"Great," _she thought. _"Everyone's looking at me like I'm some sort of idiot and the teacher's not there to help me out."_

Just then, the door opened, which instantly brought an optimistic, somewhat shining light to the students' faces as a woman walked into the classroom. Lisa's jaw dropped open at the sight of whom she guessed to be her new teacher. This woman was no older than twenty-five, wearing an informal green dress with a pink light jacket and a necklace of crimson pearls. Her hair, colored a magnificent blue, was styled quite strangely, in the form of an extremely tall beehive, so tall that Lisa was surprised it wasn't actually touching the ceiling. But what piqued Lisa's interest the most was the woman's face: she had beautiful hazel eyes, just like hers, and the smile she was wearing radiated a warm, gentle feeling.

"Hello, class!" the woman greeted; even her voice sounded kind and caring, though a bit scratchy at the edges.

"Hi, Ms. Marge!" chirped the students in unison.

Marge glanced down at Lisa, and her smile widened. "Alright, class," she announced, "I believe we have a new student joining our circle today. Say hello to Lisa!"

"Hi, Lisa," the students greeted.

Lisa giggled nervously, waved, and replied meekly, "Hello."

"Okay, Lisa," Marge said, "you sit in the third chair of the row number three."

Lisa nodded and walked over to her allotted seat, which she sat down on. Unpacking the materials from her backpack, she decided to examine the students sitting next to her. On her left was a pudgy-looking boy with stringy hair and wearing a light-blue shirt and whitish jeans. He was spacing out, his eyes wide and his smile disturbingly solid in place. To her right was a redheaded girl wearing a hooded white sweater, a red dress underneath, a golden locket, and a dark-red headband. She was fully focused on Marge, who was now addressing the students in a lesson.

Just then, Marge announced, "Alright class, now's the moment I hope you've all been studying for: your History test!"

The students instinctively put away whatever notes they had and procured pencils. As Marge proceeded down the desks, handing out test papers, she addressed to Lisa, "Oh, Lisa? Since you obviously weren't here for our lesson, you are excused from taking the test."

Lisa felt the heads of several students turn towards her. Not wanting to start at the bottom of the ladder again, Lisa replied, "No, I'd rather take the test."

Marge flicked her head at the eight-year-old in surprise. "Are you sure?" she asked. "D'you _know_ any of the stuff we've covered for the past two weeks?"

"You were talking about Christopher Columbus during today's lesson, mentioned him several times. I am confident this test relates to his sea travels, which I have good knowledge of. I think this test will be a piece of cake."

"Hmmm..." Marge looked apprehensive. "Well, _okay_..." The young teacher kindly handed a test sheet to Lisa. "But if you have trouble, you can always call out for me when you need help."

"I think I'll manage."

Marge left, and with that, Lisa looked at the test. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the questions offered to her. They were all doozies, so easy! She could answer this test under a minute with one hand tied behind her back. The eight-year-old instantly wrote down the answers and stood up, catching Marge's attention.

"Do you need help, Lisa?" asked Marge politely.

"No, I'm already done," Lisa replied.

The rest of the students gasped, while Marge blinked.

"I'm sorry, you're _done_ with the test? Already? It's been a minute! Less than a minute, actually!"

"Fifteen seconds, to be exact. But I'm done, no doubt about it."

Marge stood up from her desk and approached Lisa. "Are you sure you didn't just rush the test? You might've answered several questions wrong."

"No, I definitely didn't. I know the answers by heart."

Just then, Lisa realized what was happening and mentally face-palmed herself. She had just bought a one-way ticket to the land of Unpopularity. Students now know of her intellectual capabilities and will view her as a nerd who shouldn't be hung out with. Handing over the test to Marge, she prayed to the heavens that the teacher would find at least one wrong answer. It would be a saving grace to her chances to make new friends here.

Marge compared Lisa's test with an answer sheet, as Lisa and the other students watched with intense curiosity. After a few minutes of this, the young teacher gazed at the eight-year-old and said, "No wrong answers. You _do_ know everything in this test by heart."

There was a brief silence, then...

"Wow."

Lisa looked at her right and saw that the speaker was an African-American girl with long, curly dark-brown hair and wearing a pink dress. She giggled nervously, then decided to walk back and sit at her desk again. But Marge remained, rooted to the spot, amazed by Lisa's intellect.

"Lisa," Marge said, "where'd you learn to complete a test with no wrong answers in just fifteen seconds? And better yet, a test dealing with material considered as quite complicated to second-graders?"

"I read it," Lisa replied simply. She wished that Marge would then drop the matter, for she didn't want her intellect to be more well-known than it already was. But Marge was too motivated to learn the secrets behind this child prodigy that was before her.

"You read it where? What kind of books?"

"I read a history book in the library back at Boise. It was interesting, I guess."

"But surely this kind of strong intellect requires some sort of parental influence. Did your mom help teach you these things?"

Lisa's reply was honest this time. "Definitely not."

"How about your dad?"

"Not him either. He's never home most of the time."

"Surely some adult helped you learn that material. A kid can't just learn this all by himself or herself."

"But I did," said Lisa. "I learned all of that by reading a book in the library. A book I didn't even check out. I just took it off a shelf, read it for a while, then put it back. As simple as that."

Marge continued to stand there, dumbfounded. This was even more surprising than she could ever dream of. Before her was a little eight-year-old girl who obviously has a large intellectual capacity, larger than anyone she's ever met before, who had limited resources for her knowledge. It was truly amazing! Certainly astounding! Potentially breathtaking! Quite-

"Ms. Marge?"

"Yes, Ralph?" asked Marge, unfocused.

"My cat's name is Mittens," the pudgy boy with stringy hair replied.

Usually, Marge would be polite, but this time, her reply was quick, dismissive, and nonchalant.

"That's very nice, Ralph."

* * *

The school bell rung, signifying the start of lunchtime. Marge watched as her students, including Lisa, flowed out of the classroom before letting out a deep breath. She was still dumbfounded by the talent Lisa displayed minutes ago. Why in the world was this girl still registered as a second-grader when she should be sitting with the sixth-graders? The situation was preposterous and shouldn't be ignored any longer!

Marge stood up and walked out of her classroom. As she did, she nearly bumped into someone.

"Oh, excuse me!" Marge said politely. She then smiled warmly upon realizing who it was. "Why, hello there, Homer!"

"Hi, Marge," replied Homer, his cheeks blushing slightly.

"You will _never_ imagine what happened today!"

"Trust me, nothing's unimaginable, Marge."

"Well, this one apparently is. I've got this new student, named Lisa Thompson. She is a GENIUS! On her first day, she answered a History test on Christopher Columbus with no wrong answers. And get this, she completed the test _in fifteen seconds_! Even Allison, in all of her intelligence, can't pull off this feat!"

"Fifteen _seconds_?" repeated Homer. "That's certainly unimaginable!"

"I'm gonna go talk to Seymour about what I've experienced. There's no way Lisa's gonna sit there in the second grade with this vast amount of knowledge worthy of sixth-grade material!"

"I'll go with you. Besides, I've got a little cleaning appointment at his office, anyway."

And with that, the two walked down the hallway, past several students and a couple of teachers. Upon reaching Principal Skinner's office, Homer kindly opened the door for Marge.

"After you, Marge," Homer said.

"Why thank you, Homer," replied Marge as she walked inside the office.

Homer followed her inside, a goofy grin of happiness on his face as he closed the door behind him. However, that grin turned into a frown the moment he saw another person besides Skinner in the office with him and Marge. It was Artie Ziff, one of the sixth-grade teachers. His curly black hair, silly glasses, shiny blue suit, and pompously selfish smile didn't seem to prevent him from being, surprisingly to Homer, a ladies' man. Unfortunately, Marge was one of the many vying for his attention, and to make matters worse, it appears she's received it a while ago, as Artie craftily wiggled his eyebrows at her, to which she giggled girlishly. Homer clenched his fists and teeth to stave off his boiling anger, which instantly receded when Skinner addressed Marge.

"Why hello, Marge. What do you need? I was just talking to Artie about the program for gifted students being established."

"Well then, I believe you might have your first applicant," Marge replied. "My new student, Lisa Thompson, is an incredibly gifted little girl. She completed a test in just fifteen seconds, with ALL of the answers correct. Not a single miss!"

"All of the answers _correct_?" repeated Artie. "Unanimously a student worthy of this program!"

"Lisa Thompson, you say?" Skinner asked, expertly pulling out a file from his desk and examining its contents. "Yes, it appears she has an outstanding overall academic performance at the schools she's been at. An impressive student. But I'm afraid she is ineligible for this new program of ours."

"What?!" exclaimed Homer. "Why not?! Didn't you hear Marge, Seymour? This Lisa character's obviously a fantastic, marvelous student! How could you just throw away a precious life like this?"

"Yeah!" Marge said in agreement. "...What he said."

"Well, I fully believe what you say about Lisa's academic achievements," Skinner replied, "but judging from the notes made by the schools that previously had her, she's not _emotionally_ eligible."

"Not _e__motionally_ eligible?"

"Yes." Skinner looked at the reports. "In the words of the reports, she's had a history of depression that's disturbingly well over the standards for an average eight-year-old. Always found sitting alone and is never social with anyone except with her older brother Bart. Has been frequently bullied by peers and therefore has low self-esteem. And recently, a school psychologist has reported that her problems seem to stem from somewhere other than school, from a source much worse. Details don't go any further. But Marge, it appears that Lisa is emotionally unbalanced and therefore not ready to be signed up for the program. I'm sorry, but she's not in."

"Then I'll find out what the problem is!" exclaimed Marge. "It's obvious there's something going on at Lisa's home, and I'll find out what it is! What's Lisa's current home address?"

"Uh, 1313 Hopeless Avenue." Skinner gasped sharply. "But Marge! That's in..._the Rat's Nest_!"

At the mentioning of the neighborhood's title, everyone shuddered. Marge then regained her composure.

"I don't care where her home is! I'm gonna have a little talk with her parents and see what kind of home life she experiences."

"I should probably come with you," Artie said smoothly and with confident yet cheesy grace that made Homer scoff in his mind. "A fine piece of art like yourself shouldn't be gliding around in a damp, dark, and perilous neighborhood such as the Rat's Nest."

"Why, thanks for volunteering to escort me, Artie." Marge smiled colorfully, trying as best as she could to hold in a girlish shriek. "You're such a gentleman."

"I'll come along too!" Homer piped. "Artie might need help when he's defending Marge from whatever lurks there."

"Thanks for the suggestion, Homer," replied Artie, "but I am a black-belt master in the martial arts. I think I can manage without the aid of a simple assistant groundskeeper."

"Trust me, assistant groundskeepers are deadly. Um, uh, uh..." Homer noticed the mop he had been carrying the whole time and began swinging it. "They're skilled in turning everyday cleaning tools into fearful weapons. Once, I knocked out four buff guys with this very mop in one fell swing."

Just then, Homer's mop hit four of Skinner's awards, all of which fell from the nails that hung them on the wall and to the floor with a crash.

Skinner gasped. "My AWARDS!" he cried with anguish.

"Did you say four _buff guys_," Artie said, trying to stifle a mocking giggle, "or four _awards_? 'Cause I think you just knocked them out with one fell swing!"

Homer's face turned into a shade of blazing crimson, but before he can retort at Artie, Skinner instantly reprimanded, "SIMPSON! Clean up this mess at once!"

"Yes, sir," grumbled Homer, putting his mop at work.

Marge and Artie decided to take this time to leave Skinner's voice, the former looking at the assistant groundskeeper with pity.

* * *

**A/N:** And we are formally introduced to the AU's Marge! Jubilations! And doesn't this chapter look a bit like "Matilda" by Roald Dahl. It does to me. I loved that book, one of my childhood favorites! Didn't count myself to incorporate it a little into this chapter, though...

I'd like to thank the following who reviewed:

_**Ariddle-Ascare [Here's more!]**_

_**Hi14 [Of course I mention everyone! I always mention everyone who reviews a story of mine. Think of it as a little thanks for reviewing. **_**:)_]_**

**_Galaxina-the-Seedrian_**

**_Da Darkest Knight [Yes, Marge's the nice teacher. YAY!]_**

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	6. Lunchtime in the Cafeteria

**A/N:** Jeez, I'm SO sorry for not updating in a while. I've been busy with other stories. Hopefully no one got bored by the wait.

ENJOY!

* * *

Lisa walked into the cafeteria room, which was currently crowded with over a hundred students, all talking to one another and consuming their food and drinks. She cast her head around, hoping to look for her friends from the Rat's Nest. It didn't take long for her to find them, for they were all sitting at a secluded table, which was occupied by no one else. Lisa walked over to the table, just as her friends spotted her.

"Hey, you made it into Springfield Elementary!" Colin exclaimed joyfully, smiling brightly. "A pleasure for you to join us!"

"A pleasure for me to do so!" replied Lisa, sitting down next to Colin and taking out the lunch she prepared for herself.

"So Lisa, who do you have as your teacher?" Mary asked.

"Ms. Marge."

The response instantly prompted many nods and statements of approval from the others.

"My, Lisa, you're _so_ lucky!" remarked Ronaldo. "Ms. Marge has gotta be the best teacher ever hired here!"

"I noticed," Lisa said, smiling fondly at the remembrance of her kind teacher, probably the kindest and most caring she had so far during her travels.

"I had her two years back," Mary said. "Probably the best teacher I'll ever have. And now I'm stuck with this Krabappel character. She doesn't even take her job seriously."

"No one else here _does_, sis," Whitney replied. "No one except Ms. Marge, Principal Skinner, and Assistant Groundskeeper Homer."

"Assistant Groundskeeper Homer?" asked Lisa. "I met him! He showed me and my brother to Principal Skinner's office!"

"You're lucky to have come across him," Colin said. "He's the only other adult who everyone likes besides Ms. Marge. Saves the nerds and the losers from the bullies, comforts children when they're sad, and even entertains them with terrific stories. Yesterday, he told us about Dark Stanley, this kid who once attended this school and died here. He's now said to haunt this very cafeteria."

"Is that true?"

"It's obviously false. But the way he talked about it, it sounded so real, I had nightmares anyway. Anyways, he's an awesome person to each and every student. I'm quite surprised he doesn't have children of his own."

"Well, I'm glad there are adults here who'll help us in the time of need."

"Yeah. The school's been a joke ever since those budget cuts happened a few years back. Now the adults have lost faith in their jobs. I don't know why Ms. Marge and Assistant Groundskeeper Homer are the only good ones around here."

"Well, well, well," a new voice said, "if it isn't the _Twisties_..."

"Oh, no..." Ronaldo moaned, while the younger children hid behind their older ones.

"Why?" asked Lisa. "What's wrong?"

"You'd better brace yourself," Colin replied.

Before Lisa could say anymore, she noticed four boys approaching them. One was tall; had long, stringy brown hair; and was wearing a black T-shirt with the symbol of a menacing skull, a purple knit cap, blue jeans, and black shoes. Another had long, stringy red hair that was asymmetrical and always covered one eye; he was wearing a dark olive-green T-shirt, black cutoff shorts, and basketball shoes. Another was short but burlier than the others, with a bald scalp and wearing a torn white T-shirt and torn black jeans. The fourth and final one was the most menacing of the quartet, having messy brown hair, an especially ugly face, and wearing a light-brown T-shirt with a torn blue vest and blue shorts.

"Who are they?" Lisa asked Colin.

"Nelson Muntz and his gang," he replied. "They pick on the nerds and losers of the school. Including us. We're called the 'Twisties' because we remind them of those poor children in the book 'Oliver Twist'. Nelson's the ugly one, Jimbo has the knit cap, Kearney's the bald one, and Dolph has that hair of his."

"Hey, Twisties!" Nelson greeted jeeringly. "I see you're still eating poor food. Bug sandwiches and crap ice cream!"

Nelson burst out into laughter, and was accompanied by his three cronies who followed suit.

"For your information, Nelson," Colin said calmly, "this food isn't what you say it is. It's regular sandwiches and...we don't even _have_ ice cream."

"Look at those dorks!" Dolph exclaimed. "Those Twisties are so poor, they can't even buy a scoop of ice cream! Those things cost two quarters a cone! But of course they can't afford two quarters, 'cause they're poor like hell! AHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Leave us alone, Nelson," Mary said. "You come from the Rat's Nest too, you know."

"But my mom is able to afford two quarters, unlike you losers!" retorted Nelson. "HAW HAW!"

"Hey, give us a break!" cried Lisa. "So what if we're poor? Why should we be picked on, then?"

Nelson and his cronies looked at Lisa, staring so hard at her that she felt like she was staring at Death itself.

"Who's _this_?" Jimbo asked.

"It looks like _new blood_!" Kearney replied with satisfaction.

"I _love_ new blood," said Nelson sadistically. "The fresher they are, the more easier it is to break them."

"Come on, fellas," Colin replied defensively, "this is her first day. Don't make it terrible for her."

"Oh, shove off, Irish-man!" Jimbo said. "We LIVE to make first days horrible!"

Wendell, who hadn't acted or spoken even before Lisa arrived, suddenly stood up and stepped between Lisa and the bullies, holding his arms out like a human shield.

"Get away from her," he snarled. "This is just _her first day_."

"Ooh, look who's trying to play hero!" exclaimed Nelson. "The pale kid who doesn't talk!" He mock-gasped. "Speaking of which, he finally TALKED!"

"Finally got something to say, little boy," Dolph jeered. "We're _so_ proud of you! You finally managed to string together a simple sentence!"

Wendell was turning red.

"Hey, you darn kids!" another voice shouted. "Leave 'em alone!"

The bullies turned to see Homer approaching them, his mop looking rather menacing. Apparently, the bullies knew better than to target their victims under the nose of an adult, as they took a few steps backward from Lisa, Wendell, and the others.

"Sure thing, _Assistant Groundskeeper Homer_," said Nelson, smirking a bit. He then turned to his cronies. "Let's go, boys. I'll smell ya later, _Twisties_."

And with that, the four bullies walked away towards a student who had dropped his lunch tray and began harassing him. Sighing, Homer approached Lisa and Wendell.

"They think they're so high and mighty," Homer said, "but they're ironically from the Rat's Nest too. Don't let 'em good to your minds, kids."

"Okay, Assistant Groundskeeper Homer," chirped everyone but Lisa. Instead, the eight-year-old smiled.

"Thanks for saving us, Assistant Groundskeeper Homer," she said. "Is there any way we can repay you?"

"There's one thing, and that's to have fun! I'll see you kids later!" Before he can leave, he closely looked at Lisa. "Hey, I know you! I gave you and that other kid directions to Principal Skinner's office, didn't I?"

"Yeah, that was me and my brother Bart. I'm Lisa Thompson."

"Lisa Thompson, Lisa Thompson, why does that sound _familiar_..." Homer's eyes widened with realization. "Hey, Ms. Marge mentioned you to me! She says you're a bright kid, quite the marvelous student! She even said you were better than that Allison kid!"

"She did?" another voice piped. Homer and Lisa turned to see a redheaded girl standing behind the former, holding her lunch tray. Lisa instantly recognized her as the redheaded girl that sat to her right in Ms. Marge's class.

"Um, yes," replied Homer nervously, not wanting to offend the girl. "But she also said that she thinks you're still a smart girl, Allison!"

"Oh," Allison said, not sounding convinced. "Okay..." And with that, she walked off, looking at Lisa with an emotion she couldn't identify. She smiled back nervously, hoping that Allison didn't develop a jealousy against her.

"Well then," Homer said, "now that _that's_ taken care of, I better go. Bye, Lisa! I hope to see you soon!"

"I hope so too!" replied Lisa, waving at the assistant groundskeeper as he walked off. She smiled widely; she found Homer extremely nice. Quite like her father, only much more attentive towards her...

Just then, she heard a tremendous cheer erupt at another section of the cafeteria. Lisa and her friends turned their heads to see a large crowd of students gathered around a particular table; standing on it was Bart, holding a slingshot that he swung triumphantly. Lisa quickly noticed none other than Nelson Muntz, kneeling on the floor and crying, a rotten tomato splattered all over his face. His cronies were also kneeling down, trembling fearfully before Bart.

Lisa smiled, knowing that her brother would instantly gain friends in school. She knew that there was no need to get jealous this time around, for she had friends of her own.

"Who's _that_?" asked Mary, looking at Bart and smiling dreamily.

"My older brother Bart," Lisa replied, sitting down next to Colin. "He's the biggest troublemaker anyone's ever seen, but quite the popular boy. Now, let's eat! So Pepi, what'd you do during class-time?"

* * *

**A/N:** I know it was a short, filler-like chapter, but I thought it'd be interesting to write. And besides, some more AU Homer-Lisa interaction would've been nice.

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**LORIKEET12**_

_**Hi14 [You're welcome!]**_

_**ptofan [Well, I updated! Hopefully not late enough for you...]**_

_**SideshowJazz1 [Hey, you recognized the "Matilda" tidbit! JUBILATIONS! And I'm glad you got hooked! It makes me glad!]**_

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter, even if it might've seemed like a filler. TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	7. A Turning Point

**A/N:** So sorry for the long wait, guys. It's been a busy week at school. Fortunately, I've taken this leisure time I've got to write down this chapter. ENJOY!

**P.S.:** More "Matilda" similarities ahead, just thought I'd tell you!

* * *

Marge felt her stomach catch up to her and struggled to hold in her nausea as Artie jerked his shiny new purple sedan to an abrupt stop alongside a house in the Rat's Nest Neighborhood. Shaking her head to clear herself of any feelings of wanting to relieve her stomach of its contents, she then looked at the scrap of paper she wrote down Lisa's home address on. Marge then glanced at the house and nodded upon confirming that she was at the right address.

"Wait in the car, Artie," Marge said to Artie. "I can handle this."

"Yes, ma'am," replied Artie smoothly.

Nodding again, Marge got out of Artie's sedan, almost grateful she was out of the car, and walked towards 1313 Hopeless Avenue. Once again, she struggled to hold in the nausea the moment her nostrils were greeted with a terrible smell that was one of the Rat's Nest's many notable attributes. A rat scurried away as the single teacher walked up to the front doorway and looked around for the doorbell. Seeing that there was none, instead a hole where it should've been, Marge merely resorted to knocking on the door.

But there was no answer, so she knocked again. Just then, she heard an angered voice yell something, but Marge couldn't comprehend the exact words being said. Her patience unwavering, the teacher calmly knocked again. The angry voice yelled something again, and finally, she heard footsteps approach the front door, which then swung open to reveal Lisa herself. Marge instantly noticed the bruise on her student's cheek, but knew it'd be impolite to immediately ask.

"Ms. Marge?" asked Lisa with surprise. "What're you doing here? I doubt someone like you would wanna venture into the Rat's Nest."

"I thought I'd come to visit you," Marge replied, smiling. "Actually, I'd also like to talk to your parents. Can I see them?"

The light in Lisa's eyes seemed to fade in an instant. "Oh," the girl said. "My dad's at work and won't be home until late in the nighttime. And-" Lisa's voice became lower in volume, something that piqued Marge's curiosity. "-my mom's not the best person to talk to."

"I can handle anyone, Lisa. If I can just come in-"

"Who the hell is this?" Lisa and Marge looked to see Eliza appear from the family room, a lit cigarette tucked between her right index and middle fingers and an ugly frown perched upon her face. Marge instantly noticed the striking resemblance Lisa and Eliza had, but couldn't find it possible that Lisa would be able to achieve the same upset look Eliza was having.

"Hi, Mrs. Thompson," Marge greeted politely. "I'm Marge Bouvier, Lisa's teacher-"

"What the hell's she done now?" interrupted Eliza. "Throw a textbook at you in class?"

"Goodness, of course not! In fact, she's done nothing wrong."

"Why the hell are you here, then? If you're gonna babble on like an idiot about how gifted Lisa is, then you can just forget about it!"

Marge was taken aback by the last statement, but managed to get over it quickly. "That's exactly what I'm gonna do."

Eliza sighed with extreme annoyance and pointed out of the door. "Then I suggest you leave. I don't wanna hear about how great little Lisa is. No matter what kind of things she's done to impress you, she'll always be, to me, a little brat who hops around ruining lives."

Marge's eyes widened. She couldn't believe she heard this remark from Eliza. The teacher knew that there were such things as abusive and neglectful parents in the world, but to meet one such parent in the flesh was still such a shock to her. Her pupils flicked to Lisa, who took a small step backward from Eliza, a slight trembling present in her profile. Her eyes narrowed and Marge faced Eliza.

"You know, Mrs. Thompson," Marge said, still calmly, "I don't really understand why you don't like a sweet girl such as Lisa. She's very nice, talented, and intelligent."

"Intelligent, my ass," snapped Eliza in response. She then smirked. "Let me tell you something, _Marge Bouvier_: you teach children, meaning you love and treasure them. But when you have a kid of your own, you'll find that your life becomes nothing more than a life-sucking abyss that has no bottom. You have only one big responsibility, and that is to take care of your kid. But that darn kid will drag you down. You'll have dreams and desires, but they'll be hindered by that mere, damn kid. The kid will just continue to drag, drag, drag you down, with no end in sight. All of your hopes will be crushed, all because of just one responsibility and one kid, or more, depending on how much you decide to get.

"That's what happened to me the moment I gave birth to _her_." She pointed a finger accusingly at Lisa, who took another step backward, towards Marge. "I had great ambitions, but her birth wrecked EVERYTHING. Now, I'm stuck with _her_, her and her worthless siblings. It's bedlam! And worse yet, my husband thinks that it's a good idea to leave me with those bastards while he goes off to his work, which lasts for almost the entire goddamn day! Trust me, Ms. Bouvier, children ruin _everything_. Look at me! LOOK AT ME! I could've been something, but now, the only thing I'll ever be is a mother to these bastards."

Marge couldn't believe what she was hearing. Eliza was truly terrible. And now that she thought of it, so was her husband, apparently, whoever he was. Lisa and her siblings were all trapped under the care of these neglectful parents! She HAD to do something about it! ...But what? Obviously, the parents still have custody of their children and don't seem capable of wanting to get them out of their hair, for some reason. All she had to do was to acquire evidence that there was some sort of abuse and/or neglect going on in the house, and Child Services would instantly spring to action...

She eyed the bruise on Lisa's cheek. But before she could even think of a strategy, Eliza had already said, "Now, I think it's best if you leave."

Marge looked at Eliza, then at Lisa, who was looking back at her. Marge's pupils flicked back to Lisa's bruise, and then, praying that the bruise wouldn't heal till tomorrow, replied somberly, "Okay. Well, it was nice to meet you, Mrs. Thompson..."

"Yeah, yeah it was," Eliza replied sarcastically as Marge left the doorway.

Marge looked behind her and was able to see Lisa before the eight-year-old was escorted into the house by Eliza, who shut the door behind her. Sighing with frustration, she then went up to Artie's sedan and got inside.

"So," he said, "how'd it go? Did you get the answers you needed?"

"Yep," Marge replied. "I got 'em."

* * *

Bart had been listening in on Eliza and Marge's conversation intently the entire time, and when Marge left and Eliza closed the door, the ten-year-old boldly marched up to his mother, who flicked her head at him and stared back coldly.

"What the hell is it, boy?" she demanded angrily.

"Why is it that you have a problem with Lisa and not me?" replied Bart, stamping his foot. "I'm the firstborn, I ruined your life first! I wasn't even planned, for God's sake! Why the hell aren't you taking it all out on _me_ then? What the hell did Lisa do to _you_?"

"You keep your damn mouth shut, ya little troublemaker," Eliza snarled menacingly, while Lisa watched, gesturing Bart to stop, but the ten-year-old refused to listen, instead continuing to argue.

"You were really nice even after a couple years after Lisa was born! But all of a sudden, you turn into a mean, rotten BITCH!"

He touched a nerve. Eliza's fist flew forward, and Bart fell to the ground, a large bruise on his cheek and a speck of blood oozing from his lip.

"BART!" Lisa screamed, rushing to her brother's side. But Bart bravely stood up, albeit with some difficulty, and wiped the blood from his lip as he stared at Eliza again.

"And I think I know why you're so cruel to us!" he cried. "I remember Dad telling me stories about how he met you, and when he knocked you up before high-school graduation! He described you as being an extreme nerd, like the next Stephen Hawking or something! But then I was born, and your chances of a good future were ruined! But you didn't seem to mind at first, because you actually cared for me the moment you saw me!

"Then, Lisa was born, and you didn't care until a couple years later, when Lis started showing signs of smartness, smarts that were like _yours_! You hate Lis because you're JEALOUS! And your jealousy mounted over and you also start hating me and Maggie as well! THAT'S why you're so rotten! You're just JEALOUS!"

Bart touched another nerve. This time, Eliza kicked him in the stomach, and the ten-year-old fell to the floor, crying and clutching his stomach. Maggie, who was sitting nearby in her baby-seat, began to cry from the loud noises.

"YOU SHUT UP, BOY!" she screamed. "YOU JUST **SHUT UP**!"

"What's wrong, _Eliza_?" Bart asked tauntingly, coughing a bit and sniffling. Lisa could hear her brother chuckle a bit. "Sad that your little daughter's growing up to be exactly what you wanted to be?"

Eliza suddenly grabbed numerous strands of Bart's spiky hair and tore them from the roots, earning a pained screech and a subsequent sobbing, but Lisa still heard some hints of rebellious chuckling intertwined with the crying.

"DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT, BOY!"

"Yeah? You can't stop me!"

"FINE, YOU WORTHLESS **BASTARD**! YOU'VE ASKED FOR IT, DAMN IT!"

Eliza grabbed Bart's shirt collar and prepared to punch him, but Lisa seized the best thing her hands could find, her shoes, and threw them as hard as she could at her mother's face. Unfortunately, they missed and hit her shoulder instead, not achieving the desired effect Lisa had in mind. Eliza stared hatefully at Lisa and abruptly kicked her in the stomach. Lisa felt as if her eyes and stomach contents were gonna pop out; her body collided painfully with the floor and she began to cry and cough.

Growling furiously, Bart bit down on Eliza's hand as hard as he could. The woman screamed in pain and dropped him, giving him the chance to grab one of Lisa's shoes and hit Eliza's foot with it. Eliza screamed again and clutched her foot, giving Bart the time to grab Lisa's hand, run with her to Maggie's baby-seat, and retrieve his baby sister. He then grabbed his nearby backpack, and the two ran to the garage door and tried to open it when Eliza appeared and prepared to punch Bart when Maggie, her eyes narrowed, shot her pacifier from her mouth into Eliza's eye.

As Eliza screeched with pain and struggled to get the pacifier out, Bart opened the garage door and he and Lisa ran into the garage. Lisa opened the garage as Bart retrieved their bicycles. The two siblings mounted on the bikes, with Maggie being placed in a basket carried by Lisa's, and they cycled out of the garage as fast as they could and into the neighborhood.

The two siblings pedaled faster than they've done in their entire lives as they raced down the Rat's Nest Neighborhood, past the dilapidated houses and swarms of large rats. They couldn't hear Eliza running and screaming after them and assumed that she had remained at the house, either out of her own will or due to still trying to get Maggie's pacifier out of her eye. Pedaling into the more peaceful suburbs of Springfield, where they met Ned Flanders, Bart and Lisa still didn't look back.

They were officially running away.

* * *

**A/N:** FINALLY, BART, LISA, AND MAGGIE GO FOR IT! Will they survive on their own?

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**Galaxina-the-Seedrian [I'm glad you think so.]**_

_**Da Darkest Knight [Sorry the update took longer than you could imagine. Hopefully you're still satisfied.]**_

_**aqsw (guest reviewer) [I don't know. What's "Malcolm in the Middle"?]**_

_**SideshowJazz1 [Sorry if the last chapter wasn't long enough. Hopefully this one is.]**_

_**Third Kind [Thanks for your review! I'm glad you actually like this AU-fic! Hope you keep reading this!]**_

Well, hope you enjoyed this somewhat brutal chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	8. Running Away

Marge opened the door to her smelly apartment and walked into the room, sighing heavily and offhandedly tossing her purse on the sofa, then collapsing on it herself. It had been a shocking day for her. She was faced with the most precocious student she ever had, even more brilliant than Allison Taylor, but found that her intelligence will be extremely hindered, all because of the complete absence of parental support and influence, which was replaced with the most horrid of emotional and most likely physical abuse. Eliza Thompson was the biggest ass she had ever met, and her husband, while she never met him, should be just as bad, if he were to spend all day being somewhere other than home. Her visit to the Thompson house was way worse than standing in the infamous Rat's Nest, Marge bitterly mused.

The gears in her mind began to whirl at speeds. She was now harboring a special concern for Lisa and her siblings. There was no way they were gonna be under the care of such vicious, monstrous parents. Lisa was too good for that, and surely so was her brother Bart, whom she heard about. But Marge could feel that despite Eliza's hatred of her, the woman wanted to keep her children. Whether it was because she enjoyed their suffering and misery or not, the teacher didn't comprehend. But either way, Lisa and her siblings sorely deserved proper parental care, and Marge swore to the heavens that she was gonna grant them that.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and in stepped Marge's older twin sisters, Patty and Selma, who shared her apartment. The both of them would've been as beautiful as their sister, but any chances of that have been shattered by their chain-smoking, which Marge now came to recognize as one of their attributes. Unfortunately, their nicotine addiction has also embittered their personalities, and they always treated Marge with cold sarcasm and the worst of advice. Occasionally, Selma made some effort to be a good sister, but most of the time, Marge couldn't help but desire a time she got herself a new house. After all, her current salary didn't provide her with enough to purchase her own residence, and for now, she had to deal with the hospitality of her sisters.

"Hey, Marge," greeted Patty. "Move a bit. You're almost sitting on my new cigarette pack there."

"A 'please' at the end would suffice," Marge grumbled to herself, but she obliged and moved her position slightly, allowing Patty to retrieve the pack and whip out another cigarette, tossing her old one (though it still looked a bit fresh) towards the trash can, but missing. Patty nor Selma didn't bother to try and clean it up, just like they didn't with the other used cigarettes and other assortments of trash lying about on the floor.

"How was teaching?" Selma asked, taking a whiff of her lit cigarette. "Did those little youngsters throw spitballs at you or something this time?"

"They did nothing of the sort," replied Marge calmly. "They were good kids, as usual."

Patty scoffed. "That's the thing about good kids. If they're good, then one day, they're gonna turn out bad, the whole lot of them. They all do."

"Children do not turn out to be bad. Sure, some of them can, but it all depends on their personality. For example, I see this boy named Wendell Borton. He's moody and antisocial, so I have this feeling this'll shape his personality in the future. But there's this girl who's new in my class, named Lisa Thompson. She's quite incredibly brilliant and asks a lot of good questions. Whatever her future is, I sense it'll be good."

"This Lisa Thompson," Selma replied, not looking at Marge and still smoking her cigarette, "is she the kind that always sticks her nose in the books all the time?"

"No, not at all. She socializes well with others-"

"And what kind of crowd is she hanging with?"

"All the kids live in the Rat's Nest."

Patty and Selma were probably the only people in Springfield who actually don't shudder at the name of the neighborhood. Patty replied, "She socializes with the poor ones, then she's poor herself."

"And the poor ones turn out to be the worst," added Selma.

This struck one of Marge's nerves. She stood up abruptly, stamping her feet in the process.

"NO!" she shouted. "Lisa Thompson will NOT be a bad person. All it takes is for her to have the support she needs from a parental figure! But of course you wouldn't know that, 'cause you don't bother to have kids yourself! And I doubt you'll have any, 'cause every time a man sees you two, they writhe in disgust!"

"Jeez sis, _sorry_," Selma replied, her eyes wide.

"NO, NO SORRY!" Marge stamped her foot again. "I am _sick and tired_ of having to deal with you two! You keep fouling up the place with your incessant smoking, you don't bother to clean up after yourselves, you don't treat me with enough respect even though I'm your sister, and worst of all, you _badmouth_ the children I teach! Well, I'VE HAD DAMN ENOUGH OF THIS CRAP! I'M **LEAVING**!"

Grabbing her purse, Marge stormed out of the room, Patty and Selma staring after her with shock.

Finally, Patty said, "Do we really smoke _that much_?"

* * *

As she left the apartment, all Marge could think of was, _"Gotta find Lisa..."_

* * *

After almost an hour of pedaling, Lisa and Bart finally stopped their bicycles in front of a house in the suburbans, looking behind them, panting continuously.

"You think she's not following us?" asked Bart.

"I doubt it," Lisa replied. "She's probably allowed us to run away like that."

"I can't believe it." Bart leaned back a bit on his bike. "We're...actually _running away_..."

"We didn't even leave a note for Dad telling him we love him and we're sorry..." added Lisa sorrowfully.

Maggie, the only sibling who remained calm during the whole ordeal, took out a backup pacifier from her clothes, knowing that her last one was still most likely embedded in Eliza's eye. The infant put it into her mouth and sucked it twice contently.

"Well, I guess we're on our own now," Bart said. "I wonder how we're gonna survive. I didn't even pack some dough."

"All I have is twenty-five cents," replied Lisa, taking out a quarter from the pocket of her backpack.

"A lousy twenty-five cents at that. That's only gonna buy us a stick of gum or something!" He then looked at the house standing before the siblings. "Well, since we're living on our own, we're gonna have to improvise..."

He got off his bike, looked around, and spotted a large rock. Picking it up, he prepared to throw it when Lisa exclaimed, "We're actually gonna ROB the family living inside there?!"

"How else are we gonna get what we need?" asked Bart.

"We can't spend the rest of our lives committing crimes to survive, Bart!"

"Hey, we can't just ring the doorbell and dupe the family into thinking some cock-bull story we made up!"

* * *

Minutes later, Bart, Lisa, and Maggie were standing at the front door, all three clasping their hands together and looking sad and innocent.

"Remember," whispered Lisa, "we do this just like we rehearsed it. We pretend we're getting charity money and food to fund for our parents' surgeries after they got into a car accident."

"Check," Bart replied.

Lisa rang the doorbell of the house and waited for the homeowner to open it. A few minutes later, the children heard someone travel down the stairs, humming a tune that sounded awfully off-key, just before the front door opened. Lisa and Bart's jaws both dropped open.

"Assistant Groundskeeper Homer?" Lisa asked.

"Hey, I know you kids!" Homer exclaimed. He then looked at Lisa and Maggie and frowned. "Although I don't remember seeing _two_ of you..."

"It's nice to see you, Assistant Groundskeeper Homer," Lisa said, wanting to shift the conversation away. "We should go now. I think we rang the wrong doorbell."

"Who're you kids looking for?" asked Homer.

"Uhhhhh..." Lisa struggled to think of something, and blurted out the first name that came to her mind. "Ms. Marge!"

"Ms. Marge? Well, I don't know why you've come this way looking for her, and..." Homer looked around and raised an eyebrow. "...without _an adult_..."

Bart chuckled nervously, to which Lisa piped, "Oh, our parents are just falling behind. They just wanna meet her. You know, parent-teacher conference. Can you just give us the directions to-" She stopped briefly. "Oh wait, you wouldn't know where she is."

"Actually, I do!" Homer smiled. "She lives on 5892 Cartwell Boulevard. Just continue down the street to Fake Street, go left, walk a block, get to Cartwell Boulevard, and her apartment will be the first building across the street."

"Oh, why thanks!" replied Lisa.

"You're welcome."

"Hey, Assistant Groundskeeper Homer," Bart said, "how in the world do you know Ms. Marge's address so clearly?"

"I, uh, visit her sometimes..." Homer's pupils darted back and forth, but the children didn't notice.

"Well, thanks again, Assistant Groundskeeper Homer," said Lisa.

Homer chuckled. "Oh, enough of that Assistant Groundskeeper stuff! Just call me Homer, plain and simple!"

"Okay, thanks Homer," Bart replied.

"My pleasure. Be careful of strangers!"

And with that, Homer closed the door behind him, while the children walked back to their bikes.

"What do we do now?" asked Bart.

"We get to another house," Lisa replied simply. "I pray to God we don't come across the house of Apu or Ms. Marge or even that Ned Flanders guy..."

* * *

**A/N:** Ironic, huh? In the show, Bart likes to call Homer by his first name instead of 'Dad' a lot.

By the way, I've published a new story, "The New Crepes of Wrath". Please read and review, it's gonna be an interesting read. :D

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**Galaxina-the-Seedrian [Indeed!]**_

_**A Face to a Name**_

_**SideshowJazz1 [Here's the update! Hope you enjoyed it.]**_

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	9. The Search Begins

Concern was the only thing that was driving Marge's mind as she drove the rusty, beat-up green station wagon Patty loaned down to her a couple of years ago. She didn't care what kind of complex legal processes it took to ensure Lisa's safety from Eliza. She didn't care what she had to do to take the children out of Eliza's care. As long as they were safe, then all was well for the teacher.

She took a sharp right turn into the Rat's Nest Neighborhood, and after a few minutes of more driving, Marge reached the neighborhood that Lisa and her siblings lived in. Getting out of the sedan and slamming the driver's door shut with such force that the window would've shattered, Marge cleared her throat and marched to the front door, the image of a beaten, emaciated, and disheveled Lisa rotating around her thoughts in a chaotic vortex. Approaching the front door, she knocked on it loudly and forcefully, the the poorly-made wood actually trembling before it.

Marge instantly heard some muffled but angered yelling, and this time, two voices were participating. She instantly recognized Eliza's voice, but the other voice belonged to an older male, most likely her husband. _"Great,"_ she thought bitterly. _"Now I have to deal with _two _of 'em..."_

The door opened to reveal a man with spiky brown hair, an unshaven face, and eyes that were red.

"What the hell do ya want?" he asked angrily, and Marge noticed the obvious hint of grief and sadness in his voice.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Thompson," she replied calmly but through clenched teeth. "My name is Marge Bouvier, the teacher of your daughter Lisa, who displays a bright and talented mind which is hindered by the painful and influential abuse you and your goddamn wife inflict on her! And I'm now here to take her and her siblings!"

"_Abuse_?" The man's eyes widened with horror. "Listen here, Ms. Bouvier! I would NEVER abuse my kids! I _love_ them-"

"Then why the hell would you leave them with that monster of a wife and mother?"

The man sighed heavily and sniffled, tears streaming down his face. "I know. That was my one great mistake in life. I shouldn't have kept going to work. I knew Eliza hated them...but she just wouldn't _leave_ us, and I had to support the family..." He couldn't take it anymore and burst into tears, much to Marge's shock. She never expected Lisa's father to be a foil to Eliza.

Just then, Eliza herself came to the doorway. "Who the hell is it, Brad?" she demanded angrily. She then spotted Marge and frowned disapprovingly. "What now? I thought you scampered off. I'm actually surprised you bothered to return to this neighborhood-"

"YOU SHUT THE HELL UP, ELIZA!" screamed Eliza's husband.

"OH, YOU'RE TELLING ME TO SHUT UP, BRAD?" Eliza yelled back furiously. "HA! DON'T FORGET OUR LITTLE ARGUMENT WE WERE HAVING THERE BEFORE THE BLUE-HAIRED _BITCH_ HOPPED IN-"

"YOU **SEE**? GODDAMN, THIS IS THE FREAKIN' REASON THE KIDS RAN AWAY!"

Marge's heart stopped for a second. "WHAT?!" she screamed. "LISA AND THE OTHERS _RAN AWAY_?"

"Yeah," replied Eliza, smirking triumphantly. "About damn time too. I was wondering when they were actually gonna do it-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Brad interrupted.

Before Eliza could retort, Marge stormed over to her and grabbed her by the shirt collar, pulling her face close to hers so that their eyes were mere inches apart.

"Listen here, _Mrs. Thompson_," snarled Marge, "your daughter...your _kids_ have always been your responsibility. But you abused it the moment they came to existence. You SICKEN me. And now, they're somewhere out there, fending for themselves in this cruel, unforgiving world, their chances of survival at an extreme low. You just wait till something horrible happens to at least one of them. When it does, then all of it's gonna be on YOU. You, and no one else. And believe me, you'll come to regret treating these beautiful children like trash. ..._Mrs. Thompson_."

She released Eliza, who just stood there, thunderstruck. Marge then faced Brad and asked, "Where do you think the kids would've run off to?"

"I don't have the faintest clue," he replied. His eyes then widened. "The Kwik-E-Mart! Lisa befriended the clerk there. The kids would want someone they know to turn to, and he's the best chance we've got to finding them!"

"Then let's go!" Marge exclaimed. "Come, I'll drive!"

The two ran out of the house and towards Marge's sedan, leaving a still-thunderstruck Eliza behind.

* * *

From the O'Sullivan house, Colin had overheard the entire conversation between Marge, Eliza, and Brad. His jaw dropped open at the mentioning of Lisa's departure, and he instantly dashed out of his house, went across the street, and approached the front door of the Spuckler house. Ringing the doorbell, the door soon opened to reveal Mary.

"Hey, Colin," she greeted. "What's going on?"

"Lisa's run away," Colin replied.

* * *

"Well, after some initial complications," Lisa remarked, filling her backpack with money, "we finally got our so-called dough."

"Yeah," replied Bart as he stuffed his share into his own backpack. "I really wish the guy who answered the door wouldn't laugh so much though. It's kinda creepy. And he says laughter is the best medicine."

"Well, we got what we needed." Lisa hoisted the backpack over her shoulders. "Now, we'll just begin life..._alone_."

"Yep," was all Bart could manage.

The kids mounted their bikes, with Maggie now sleeping in Lisa's, and the two pedaled down the street. It was almost getting dark, and by that time, they had just pedaled out of the suburbs and entered downtown Springfield, where they've only been at once, which was the moment the Thompson family first arrived at the town.

"Damn, how do we work our way here now?" Bart asked sourly.

"We're gonna need a map," replied Lisa. She looked around, and eventually saw a map conveniently clutched in the hand of a pedestrian sleeping on a bench. "Bingo!"

She crept forward towards the dozing pedestrian and reached for the map, but suddenly, the man grunted and rolled over on his side, shifting the map out of the eight-year-old's reach. Groaning angrily, Lisa then took a deep breath and gently climbed onto the bench as quietly as she could, hoping to retrieve the map that was now tucked onto the man's stomach. Reaching over the man's side, Lisa was about to touch the map when the man grunted again and moved back to his earlier position, causing Lisa to fall off the bench and land on the concrete sidewalk hard, her arm taking most of the blow.

A loud and sickening _SNAP!_ echoed through the night, present for only a second. Lisa blinked, registering what just happened to her, and then, the pain shot up her arm, the feel of it so excruciating that it was beyond even the simplest details. And the moment the messages of pain entered her brain in split-seconds, Lisa responded with a scream of pain.

The scream was so loud that it awakened the man from his slumber, causing him to nearly fall out of the bench.

"GAH! What? What?" the man stuttered. He then spotted the sobbing Lisa on the sidewalk, and Bart pedaling over to her aid. His eyes widened with shock and horror. "Oh, dear God! I can't believe I did it!" The man clutched his forehead desperately. "I can't believe I was _sleeping_ on a bench again! Oh, I'd better go home before the cops spot me! Can't afford to have this happening to me again!"

Like a roadrunner, the man sped off in the opposite direction without even noticing the wounded Lisa. Bart pedaled up to her and came to his sister's aid.

"Lis!" he cried. "Oh my God! Are you okay? Where does it hurt?"

"E-Everywhere..." Lisa sobbed.

"Okay, okay, okay, let me see..." Bart began looking around frantically and panting heavily and rapidly, unsure of what to do. Maggie watched the scene curiously. "Let me see...um, uh, where is it?"

Lisa sniffled and showed her arm to Bart, who felt a feeling of nausea creep up his esophagus the moment he looked at it. The arm was in a rather uncomfortable-looking position that Bart never knew it could achieve, and her elbow was severely scraped and bloody. Hot beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Bart knew he was no miracle-working doctor. Of course he'd have not even the slightest idea on how to fix a broken arm!

_"Damn, why'd have to space out when they were giving us health lessons?"_ thought Bart worriedly. He then said, "Okay, okay, let's see. Um, uh, what's that thing they call? They strap it around a guy's broken arm to hold it in place? Oh, what was the name?"

"A c-c-cast?" Lisa replied, trembling.

"Yes, that's it! A cast! That's what we need!" Bart then slapped his forehead in frustration. "But we don't have a darn CAST!"

"The K-Kwik-E-Ma-Mart has a lot of s-s-stuff," suggested Lisa, her voice now becoming weak as she spoke. "And i-it's open 24/7. I-I saw it on a poster. Just g-go-go there and bu-buy a cast while I w-w-wa-wait outside with M-Maggie."

"But how do we get to the Kwik-E-Mart when you're hurt, Lis?"

Lisa looked around, still sniffling and the tears continuing to flow down her cheeks, and then pointed her uninjured arm to a certain direction. Bart followed his sister's finger, which was pointing at a red sedan parked alongside the sidewalk a few feet away. The driver's door was open, but for some reason, there was no driver inside.

"We're gonna _steal_ that car?" Bart asked, shocked.

"Wh-What o-other cho-choice d-do w-we have?" replied Lisa, her trembling becoming worse. Her blood was actually beginning to drip a little, and Bart noticed.

"Okay, let's do it. Hopefully the bozo left the keys..."

Grabbing Lisa's bicycle, with Maggie still in the basket, Bart pulled it along as he walked towards the sedan, supporting Lisa, whose trembling still wouldn't stop. After a couple of minutes, the three reached the car. Bart ventured inside and unlocked the passenger door, then opened it before returning to Lisa, supporting her over to the passenger door and putting her in the seat. He then went to Maggie, put her in the back seat, and checked if there were keys in the engine. Quite conveniently, there were.

Closing all the doors, Bart started the engine, then gulped.

"But Lis," he said, "I don't know how to drive-" The moment he noticed Lisa's trembling and worsening bleeding, which was dripping onto the seat, Bart instantly stepped his foot on the gas brake and sped the car away.

* * *

"Where do you think the Kwik-E-Mart is?" Brad asked worriedly. "I forgot where to go to get there!"

"I don't know!" Marge replied as she drove her station wagon down the suburbs of Springfield. "I've never been to the place! ...Maybe I should call the police-"

"NO!" Brad cried. "You can't!"

"Why not? Your kids are out there, all alone and defenseless! We need all the help we could get!"

"But if you call the police, they'll know about Eliza and-"

Marge instantly stopped the car, nearly knocking over the both of them.

"WHY DO YOU CARE FOR THAT WOMAN?!" shrieked the teacher. "SHE'S MADE YOUR CHILDREN'S LIVES MISERABLE! SHE TREATED THEM LIKE TRASH! YOU CLEARLY KNOW THAT! BUT WHY DO YOU STAND BESIDE HER, THEN?"

"Because...because..." Brad sighed. "I kinda lied when I said she wouldn't leave us. I didn't _want_ her to leave. When I first met her in high school, she was the only person who would bother to talk to me, to care for me. She means _everything_ to me. But I made my greatest mistake when I accidentally got her pregnant with my son. She became bitter since then. She had a great future ahead of her, and I wrecked it." Brad suddenly burst into tears. "It's all MY fault! I should be the one to blame! The kids were innocent in the matter!"

"Well then, why didn't you protect the kids in the first place?" Marge demanded. "You've known them to be innocent the entire time! Then why pit them with her and just leave for work all day?"

"I know, I know. That was a big mistake. I just needed to support the family. We were nearly broke, and Eliza was completely unable to find a job anywhere. I had some capacity to work, but those jobs always end the same way: in failure. I knew Eliza hated the kids! But she used to love them, so much. I felt that if she was left under their wing, then they'd cure her of whatever was eating away at her. But of course, that was a botched mistake from the very beginning."

Brad sighed heavily and looked at Marge with shiny, sorrowful eyes. "Ms. Bouvier, I know I've made a lot of terrible, terrible mistakes, all of them unforgivable. I've never been the best decision-maker. But just hear me out. Just know that despite all of my shortcomings, I love my kids, no matter what. They're my children, and I'm willing to die for them. Please, I'm so sorry for what I've done to help make their lives an unending nightmare. Please, I just wanna find my children, without any problems such as the police."

Marge looked back at Brad, her angered look now replacing with pity and understanding.

"Okay, no police," she replied. "But only if you promise me that you do all that you can to put your wife's behavior back on line."

Brad nodded. "Of course. I give you my word that that will happen."

"Marge?" a new voice asked. Marge and Brad turned to see none other than Homer standing in the doorway of what appeared to be his house.

"Homer?" replied Marge as Homer approached the station wagon.

"What're you doing here?"

"What're _you_ doing here? Is this where you live?"

Homer looked around and shrugged. "Um, obviously." He instantly noticed Brad. "Whatever happened to good ol' _Artie_?"

"He went back home. I'd love to stay and chat, Homer, but we need to go. We have to find his kids. They've run away!"

"Your kids?" Homer looked at Brad, and after a thorough examination, his eyes widened. "Say, aren't you supposed to be the dad of two kids called Bart and Lisa?"

"Yeah, yeah!" replied Brad. "That's them! Did you see them?"

"As a matter of fact, I did, earlier! They were looking for you, Marge!"

"They were?" Marge asked.

"Yeah, so I gave them the directions to your apartment."

"I doubt they'll wanna go there," Brad replied. "They're too smart to go to an adult who will obviously take them back home. We think they might've gone to the Kwik-E-Mart. My daughter Lisa knows the clerk there, and they'd want supplies if they're running away."

"The Kwik-E-Mart!" Homer's eyes widened fearfully.

"Why?" asked Marge. "What, Homer?"

"I was watching the news when you two came in. There's a hostage situation in progress there!"

* * *

**A/N:** GASP! Lisa, Bart, and Maggie are heading for trouble! What'll happen next?

Sorry if I hadn't updated recently. I've had a hectic school schedule and it's been tough to try and write this down without any interruptions. But here we are, finally!

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**SideshowJazz1**_

_**Vitani825 [I'm glad you're liking the story and the premise so far!]**_

_**Galaxina-the-Seedrian [Indeed, the suspense! And there's more suspense to literally hang off of now! Yes, I'm that evil. **_**:D_]_**

**_Sailor Pluto [Yeah, I've seen that story too. I haven't gotten to reviewing it, though. Maybe I will when I have the free time.]_**

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	10. A Grave Crisis, Part 1

**A/N:** OH MY GOD! I'm so sorry for the long wait! School's been a burden on me, and now I'm sick. Hopefully no one got jumped ship on me...

* * *

Bart was immensely relieved when he parked the stolen car in the Kwik-E-Mart parking lot. Another minute of driving and he would've crashed into something. Looking at Lisa, he saw that she was trembling and still bleeding.

"It's okay, Lis," he said. "I'm gonna get you medical supplies, all right? Just stay calm, and I'll be right back."

Getting out of the car, he noticed several police cars surrounding the entrance, with officers aiming their guns. Also there was a unit of SWAT agents, their rifles drawn. Curious, Bart hid behind a dumpster and watched as a rotund man with curly blue hair take out a megaphone and shouted, "GIVE IT UP, JAILBIRD! THERE'S NOWHERE ELSE TO GO! WHY DON'T YOU JUST SURRENDER PEACEFULLY?"

Suddenly, the entrance door opened, and out came Apu and several people, all of them screaming. Seconds later, one more man emerged from the convenience store, sporting reddish-brown hair and wearing a white T-shirt, a torn blue waistcoat, and blue jeans. On his right arm was the tattoo of a green snake. In one hand was a large bag that was filled with something that Bart didn't know, while the other hand was holding a large rifle.

"SEE YA COPS!" the man cried before opening fire, spraying the police cars with bullets.

Bart gasped and moved out of the way, just seconds before a bullet flew past him and hit the brick wall. The officers fired back, but at that point, the robber had already fled to his own car, opening the door and preparing to go inside.

"We can't let him get away!" an officer cried before he started firing at the car's tires, successfully hitting one.

"Oh, you are SO paying for that!" the robber shouted back, firing off more bullets.

Knowing that it wasn't safe to be in the parking lot, Bart ran back to the car and got inside, where he was greeted by Maggie's wails.

"Change of plans, Lis," Bart said. "We've gotta get outta here!" No response. "Lis? Lis?" He looked at the passenger seat and gasped. Lisa was motionless, and her eyes were closed. Her bleeding was worsening.

"Oh God, oh God," moaned Bart. He instinctively looked through the windshield and saw the robber coming towards them. Before he could have time to drive the car away, the man had already reached the driver's door and pointed his rifle at Bart.

"Going somewhere, kid?"

* * *

Eliza sat on the sofa, brooding on what happened over the past few hours. She could still remember Bart's accusing words towards her, about being jealous of her own daughter because of her intelligence, which culminated into abuse. She never intended the abuse to be driven primarily on jealousy. No, the children ruined her life the moment they came into her life!

Instinctively, Eliza reached into her pocket and took out a photograph of her, Brad, a two-year-old Bart, and an infant Lisa, all of them smiling contently. For years, she had kept that photo and always looked at it during a private moment of peace. She always couldn't help but crack a small smile of happiness every time she looked at it, especially at her younger self as she held little Lisa. In fact, she was smiling right now...

Eliza shook her head to clear her of those thoughts and put the photo back in her pocket. She knew the children didn't ruin her life, not immediately. They were good kids. It had made her proud to know that she was a mother, _their_ mother. But as time passed, the role of being a mother embittered her and made the true potential of her life wasted. She knew the good times were long gone, and now she had to deal with the miserable existence.

Grabbing the remote, she turned the TV on; it was currently on the Channel 6 News.

_**"Good evening, this is Kent**** Brockman,"**_ a slack-jawed, gray-haired reporter announced. _**"We continue to bring live footage of that shootout in the parking lot of the Kwik-E-Mart convenience store."**_

Eliza's heart stopped the moment the aerial shot captured Bart being held at gunpoint by the robber. Without thinking, she sprung up and ran out the front door.

* * *

"Oh, I hope the kids didn't get caught up in that hostage situation," Marge said hopefully.

"Don't worry, Marge," Homer replied. "Those kids will be safe, I promise."

"Oh my God, this is all MY fault!" exclaimed Brad, slapping his forehead angrily. "I should've been there for them! I should've been a better father to them! But _was_ I? NO! I was goddamn driving around, looking for a job that I damn well know that I'm not gonna stick on for a while!" Unable to take it anymore, Brad started to break down in tears. "God, I'm a terrible father!"

"Hey, you think you're terrible?" Homer asked. "You're way better off than my own dad. Ever since my mom left when I was eight, he just stopped raising me altogether. All he'd ever do was sit around on a chair and watch TV while I had to do everything for myself! Every time he'd speak to me, he'd just tell me to get him food or beer."

Marge looked at Homer with shock. "Homer," she said, "I never knew _that_ about you..."

"Yeah. My childhood's something I'd rather not talk about to anyone. Until now, that is. But you know the whole story."

"How's your dad now?"

"Still living at my old home. I visit him from time to time, but he never talks to me unless he wants food or beer, and- LOOK OUT!"

Marge, Brad, and Homer screamed as Marge's station collided head-on with the rear of a car.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, yeah, I know this is a very short, filler-like chapter. Sorry about that, but I'm feeling a bit sick today. But don't worry, next chapter's gonna be more shocking!

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**Galaxina-the-Seedrian**_

_**flowerchile8910**_

_**SideshowJazz1**_

_**Hi14 x**_

_**Mimi-loves-llamas**_

_**Sailor Pluto**_

_**I love Neville**_

_**A Gay Elephant Named Jonathan**_

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	11. A Grave Crisis, Part 2

**A/N:** And here's the second part to that shocking cliffhanger from the last chapter! ENJOY!

* * *

Bart felt his heart hammer against his ribcage at fast speeds. Though he was quite familiar about the scene of being held at gunpoint by a criminal, for he had seen a lot of action movies, the ten-year-old never thought that he'd actually be staring straight at the barrel of an actual gun himself. It was certainly a frightening experience, and it left him rooted to the spot, a hot sweat breaking out on his forehead as the gears in his mind whirred, trying to find a safe escape strategy for him and his sisters.

"I don't know what you're doing driving a car, kid," the robber snarled, smirking, "but I'm glad the opportunity presented itself. A getaway car and a trio of young hostages! The perfect means of escape!" He gestured his rifle towards the passenger seat, which was occupied by the still-unconscious Lisa. "Get over there, and move that girl to the back seat. _I'm_ taking over! HA HA!"

Gulping, Bart decided to oblige, moving over toward the passenger seat and carefully relocating his sister's form to the back seat, next to a sobbing Maggie. The robber snarled angrily and pointed his rifle at the infant.

"And shut that baby up too! Or else..."

"Okay, okay!" replied Bart fearfully, moving over to the back seat and trying his best to soothe Maggie. The robber climbed into the driver's seat, closed the door, and backed the still-operating sedan out of the Kwik-E-Mart parking lot, just as officers sprayed gunfire at the vehicle. A bullet penetrated the windshield, ripped through the passenger seat, and struck Lisa's uninjured arm.

"OH, GOD!" Bart screamed. "LISA!"

"SHUT UP, WILL YA?!" the robber yelled back. "I'M TRYING TO MAKE MY GETAWAY!"

Just then, something collided with the sedan's trunk, and the world flew before Bart's eyes. He hit his back hard against the door and he screamed in both horror and pain as the world continued to spin. He could also hear the robber yelling out in surprise and cursing endlessly. Then, the sedan collided with something else, and Bart, not wearing his seatbelt, was thrown forward from the abrupt jerk caused by the car; he hit his head hard on the door window. Groaning, he watched as his vision blurred for almost a minute, and then fade into black.

Aside from Maggie's wailing, he could hear Lisa's voice say something before he blacked out completely.

"Mommy?..."

* * *

"What was _that_?" Marge asked, holding her forehead, which was oozing a small trickle of blood. "Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah," replied Brad, groaning. "I'm okay."

"So am I," Homer added, climbing up from the back seat, a cut on his arm.

Marge looked at the car she ran into, identifying it as a red sedan. She instantly noticed the bullet hole decorating the windshield, then looked around.

They were at the Kwik-E-Mart parking lot.

Marge, Brad, and Homer watched as officers slowly crept towards the sedan, their guns ready. They could hear one barking orders at the others, something about shooting the suspect at sight. Marge glanced at the red sedan and noticed something else about it. The driver's door was open, but the seat was unoccupied.

"Stick 'em up, lame-o's."

Marge gasped upon looking into the robber's eyes as he aimed his rifle at her.

"So my first attempt at making a clean getaway wasn't a success, but this one will be!" he cried triumphantly. "Now, get out. NOW!"

"FREEZE, JAILBIRD!" an officer shouted as he and several others aimed their guns at the robber.

"EAT BULLETS, BITCHES!" the robber roared as he fired his rifle again.

"Quick, let's get away!" whispered Marge. The three all meticulously crawled out of the opposite doors as the robber continued to engage the officers in a gun battle.

The moment Brad crawled out of Marge's wrecked station wagon, he heard a wail that instantly caught his attention.

"Maggie?"

Before Marge and Homer could stop him, Brad had already completely stood up and dashed towards the red sedan, where Maggie's wails were emanating from.

"BRAD, NO!" Marge screamed.

But it was too late. The robber had spotted Brad and instinctively aimed and fired his rifle at Brad's direction. Marge and Homer screamed with utmost horror as they watched several bullets strike Brad in the torso and limbs. By some odd shred of luck, no bullets hit him squarely in the head, but Brad fell to the ground, considerably large amounts of blood oozing from his gunshot wounds.

"HA HA!" shouted the robber. "Got one! I told those idiots back at jail I would off someone, but they laughed at me! Just wait till they see the news, and now, they'll remember the name of Snake Jailbird! **YYYAAARRRGGGHHH**!"

Snake fell to the ground in pain, as an officer seized the opportunity of his distraction to shoot the thief in the leg.

"Or maybe you can just see 'em in jail and break the news to 'em," the blue-haired officer replied tauntingly. Growling, Snake aimed his gun and fired a shot, grazing the officer's shoulder.

"HA HA!" Snake cried as he stood up with some difficulty. "I got a COP! I'm definitely on fire today!" Just then, a fire emerged from the engine of Marge's station wagon and some of its flames caught Snake's vest, setting it on fire. "OW OW OW! OW OW! OH, GOD! OH NO! I DIDN'T MEAN IT **LITERALLY**! AAAHHH! HELP! HELP ME! AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!"

Dropping his rifle and waving his arms like flails, Snake stumbled further onto the street and was instantly hit by another car, which brought him to the ground. This gave the officers the opportunity to surround him and begin beating him with batons as he was still ablaze.

"OW! OW OW OW! HEY! YOU DON'T HAVE TO TAKE THE FIRE OFF LIKE **THAT**, YA KNOW?!"

"We're _not_ trying to put the fire out, Jailbird," an officer snarled as he continued swinging his baton.

Marge glanced at the car that hit Snake and gasped upon seeing Eliza emerge from the driver's seat. Her eyes then narrowed and she asked tauntingly as Eliza approached her, "What? Came here to watch your own kids die?"

"I-" Eliza began, but then, she spotted Brad being tended to by Homer and gasped with shock. "OH MY GOD! BRAD!"

She ran forward and pushed Homer aside, kneeling down before her fallen husband who looked up at her.

"E-Eliza?..." he croaked feebly.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Eliza, taking Brad's head into her lap. "No, it's gonna be okay, Brad. Just hang in there!"

"You...you c-came..."

"Yes, yes I did."

Brad let out a short, strained laugh. "N-Never thought...you h-had it...in y-you...to come t-to...my aid or...our _children's_..."

Eliza paused for a second, registering the meaning of Brad's words before replying, "Look, I came and it's done. Now hang in there, Brad! Don't speak anymore. You'll lose more energy that way! The paramedics are on the way; I see bystanders calling 911 right now! Just hang in there!"

"No, Eliza," Brad replied, sighing. It sounded more like a deep, low rattling than a sigh, though. "I think...it's t-too late...for me. I f-feel like I'm...l-losing my grip on...t-the world. Everything's...become b-blurrier and blurrier...b-by the minute..."

"NO! DON'T SAY THAT TO ME, YOU BASTARD!" Eliza screamed, but it was more of concern and anguish rather than fury. "YOU'RE GONNA MAKE IT, I TELL YOU!"

"Eliza... I love you... Take care of the children...and properly too, please..."

"No, that's your job!"

Brad laughed again, small specks of blood spitting out as a result. "O-Oh, really? Then...w-why'd you come...a-all t-the way...h-_here_, then?"

Eliza didn't answer that, but she looked up and gazed emptily towards the nighttime sky. She honestly didn't know the answer. The moment she heard about the shootout on the news, and the fact that the children might be there, she acted not from thought, but from reflex. It wasn't in her nature to go after the kids and bring them to safety; she'd rather see them die. So why did she come here?

She felt a hand place itself around her shoulder. Looking at her right, she saw that it was Marge.

"I'm so sorry, Eliza," she said.

Eliza scoffed, though there was no reason behind it. "For what?" she asked. At that response, a look of worry flooded Marge's eyes, and she sighed and looked down at Brad. Eliza's eyes widened and she looked down as well.

The moment she saw Brad's empty eyes, Eliza nearly screamed. But she didn't. All emotions had completely left her, save for two: horror at her husband's death, and confusion as to why she endangered her own life by coming to the ongoing scene of a gun battle.

Just then, Homer shouted, "Oh my God! Marge! The kids are in the sedan!"

Eliza and Marge stood up and ran up to the sedan, where Homer was already carrying out an unconscious body that Eliza immediately identified as Bart. She then looked into the sedan with Marge and saw a bleeding and unconscious Lisa, and an incessantly wailing Maggie. Instinctively, Eliza ran over to the other side, where Lisa was sitting, opened the door, and carried her daughter out. As she did, she heard Lisa moan one single word subconsciously.

"Mommy..."

Soon, the only sound occupying the air was the wailing of ambulance and police car sirens.

* * *

At the Springfield General Hospital, Eliza, Marge, and Homer continued to wait worriedly in an ominous silence as they remained seated on small blue chairs positioned opposite of the door where doctors were examining and mending Bart and Lisa. In Marge's arms was Maggie, who had now gone to sleep. Marge wanted Eliza to carry her, but Eliza was too preoccupied with the thought of Brad dying to be capable of taking the responsibility.

Finally, after hours of waiting, a doctor with black hair, a black goatee, and the beginnings of a mustache emerged from the room, sporting a friendly and welcoming yet ridiculous smile. "Hi, everybody!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Marge cried.

The doctor frowned with disapproval. "What, no 'Hi, Dr. Nick!'? Ah, well. Anyway, I have news regarding the status of Bart and Lisa Thompson. Bart sustained some heavy trauma to the head, while Lisa has a severely broken right arm and lost a lot of blood, as the broken bone cut the axillary artery and the blood flowed out of some bad scrapes and cuts. She also received a bad gunshot wound to the left arm. But here's excellent news! Both of them are gonna make it."

Marge and Homer both sighed with relief, while Eliza stood still, a stoic look on her face.

"In fact," Dr. Nick added, "Bart's regained consciousness! You may talk to him, but don't make his mind work too much. It'll give him a powerful ice-cream headache!"

"Thanks, Dr. Nick," Marge replied as she walked into the room, followed by Eliza and Homer.

There, the trio found Lisa lying on a bed, still unconscious and with bandages wrapped around her wounds and blood being pumped into her. Then, they found Bart lying on the next bed, awake and silent. The moment he saw Eliza, his eyes narrowed angrily.

"What're _you_ doing here?" he asked. "Oh, I know! You're here to see me and Lisa suffer from the physical pain we've received. Well, are ya happy now? Huh? Huh?"

"Drop it," snarled Eliza, but the concerned look didn't disappear from her face. Bart then glanced at Marge and Homer, spotting Maggie in the former's arms.

"You've got Maggie. That's good..." He looked around and realized something. "Hey...where's Dad?"

Eliza, Marge, and Homer looked at one another, unsure of what to tell him. But Bart instantly realized what happened and clutched his forehead, beginning to sob.

"No...no, no, no..." he moaned.

Just then, Dr. Nick came into the room, examined Bart, and said, "Oh, I told you not to make him think too much! Now look at him! He looks like he's eaten a week's worth of ice cream!"

* * *

**A/N:** So, the kids are safe, but Brad's dead. Quite a sad shocker, eh?

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**SideshowJazz1 [Thanks for the review, and here's the update you wanted!]**_

_**Galaxina-the-Seedrian**_

_**A Gay Elephant Named Jonathan [Of course I mentioned you in the Author's Note! I always mention those who review my stories!]**_

_**Hi14 x [Here's the update! Sorry if it was too slow for you.]**_

_**Narfy [Hey, thanks for reviewing almost every chapter! I appreciate it very much! More reviews for me, and more satisfaction of pointing out anything from you! A win-win for the both of us! Continue the good, helpful reviews and I'll continue my good writing too!]**_

Well, hope you enjoyed this sad chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	12. An Inner Conflict

Bart never thought anything worse than the psychological abuse inflicted by Eliza could ever happen to him in his entire life, but alas, Brad, his loving and caring father, was now dead, killed by the cunning bandit from the Kwik-E-Mart as told by Homer and Ms. Marge. Fortunately, the man was caught immediately afterwards with the indirect help of Eliza and was now sitting in a jail cell, likely to never see the light of day ever again.

It was painful, knowing that he was never gonna see his father alive ever again. The last time he saw him was the night before his first day at Springfield Elementary. Brad had gently tucked Bart in his bed, said good night, and left. Bart was greatly relieved that nothing terrible happened between them during this last encounter, but the emotional distress was still present. After all, he and his sisters had run away before Brad came home from another bout of job-seeking. And now, he was extremely sure that Brad died in distress while trying to look for them.

The ten-year-old wiped the tears from his eyes and then clutched his forehead, reeling from the pain brought by another headache. It was a few days after the Kwik-E-Mart incident, but the effects of that rough bump to the head still remained. Figuratively, it was a scar that reminded him that Brad was no longer alive, and no long there to protect him from any peril.

Bart glanced at Lisa's bed, which was still occupied by the eight-year-old. She was still unconscious, but fully mended from a couple of surgeries that removed the bullet from her arm and fixed her other arm, as well as stitching the wounds she sustained from the car crash. He smiled, happy that he didn't have to lose Lisa as well.

He had thoroughly examined what happened during the past few days in the hospital. Lisa received frequent visits by her friends from the Rat's Nest, who usually brought her wilted, half-dead flowers. He found himself interested in one of them, named Mary Spuckler; the two talked a lot during her visits and found that while most of their desires were completely different, they had one in common: the desire for a perfect, worry-free life.

He too had visits from his own friends, Richard Grey, Lewis Brown, and Milhouse Van Houten, all of whom he befriended after he defeated the school bully Nelson Muntz with a rotten tomato thrown by his handy slingshot. They were all nice, though he found Milhouse a slight source of annoyance, for he was the type to believe everything his friends say and even be willing to take the fall for any troublemaking, no matter how serious it was.

Bart sighed heavily and looked out of the window. The rays of sunlight were shining through it and bathing him in warmth, and yet, it didn't help him to feel relaxed.

Just then, the door opened. Bart looked at the newest arrival, expecting it to be Homer, or Ms. Marge, or possibly both. He enjoyed their presence a lot, for they actually seemed to pay all of their attention to him and his sisters, unlike Eliza.

But it wasn't them. It was Eliza.

"What're _you_ doing here?" Bart asked angrily.

"Save it," replied Eliza, but her voice was completely devoid of any rage. Bart watched as she sat down by Lisa's bedside and looked at her softly, a look of _sadness_ etched on her face. But Bart ignored it and looked away.

"Happy?"

Eliza looked up at her son. "Happy about _what_?"

"Dad's dead all because of you."

Eliza stood up abruptly. "What happened to him is NOT my fault."

Bart turned over and gave Eliza a furious look. "Yes it is!" he shouted accusingly. "If you hadn't treated me and my sisters like crap, then we wouldn't have run away and gone to the Kwik-E-Mart, where Dad followed us. If it weren't for that, he wouldn't have been shot to freakin' death and he'd be here, saving us from YOU!"

Eliza marched over to Bart's bedside, anger flooding into her face. "What happened to him is NOT my fault!" she repeated. "It was that man's fault, all of it!"

"Stop denying it, _Eliza_! He wouldn't have followed us to the Kwik-E-Mart and get himself killed! We wouldn't have run away to that convenience store! But look at what happened! We DID! We _did_ run away, and we ended up at the Kwik-E-Mart, where that man was robbing the place! How the hell were we supposed to know a robbery was going down over there?!"

"You would've watched the goddamn TV!" snarled Eliza.

"How could we watch the TV if you started beating us? You gave us no choice in running away, and you know that! Admit it, it's YOUR fault Dad's dead!" Bart paused, and then scoffed. "But of course you wouldn't. You're too much of a selfish BITCH to admit your own wrongdoing!"

He reached her breaking point. An eye twitching menacingly, Eliza angrily seized the hem of Bart's hospital clothes and forcibly lifted his upper body from the bed, so then her face would be inches away from his.

"Listen to me, brat," she hissed, "I feel very bad that he's dead. I can't imagine a life without him."

Bart rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right-"

"LISTEN TO ME, YOU STUPID BASTARD! I MEAN EVERY WORD I SAY! I FEEL CLARITY ON MY WRONGDOINGS! BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO CONTINUE THROWING SHIT AT ME! SO SHUT UP!"

"Why don't _you_ shut up, Eliza?" Bart asked tauntingly.

Eliza prepared to punch Bart when someone seized her wrist and held it. It was Marge.

"Get your hands off of him, you bitch," snarled Marge.

"You're gonna make me?" Eliza scoffed. "You and _what army_?"

"This one." Homer was standing behind Marge, cracking his knuckles. This instantly prompted Eliza to gently set Bart down to the bed and put her raised fist down. Looking from Marge and Homer to Bart, she let out a frustrated growl and stormed out of the room.

"Goddamn bitch," Marge said, flexing her fingers as if she were itching to place them around Eliza's throat.

"Relax, Marge," replied Homer. "You scared her off, and that's what matters." He looked at Bart and smiled. "Hey, Bart. How're you doing?"

"My head still hurts," Bart said. "It hurts from all the cruddy things Eliza ever said to me."

"Hey, don't take it personally, kiddo. I think that, underneath, your mom actually loves you."

Bart scoffed. "I doubt it."

"No really, man! I've seen the way she looks at your sister on that bed. She looked very sad."

Bart prepared to retort, but then he remembered the way Eliza looked at Lisa. She indeed looked very sad, genuinely sad. Could it be a sign that the old Eliza, the one that loved him and Lisa like no other child, might be..._resurfacing_?

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, I know, a short chapter. But at least it seems to hint at Eliza's inner caring soul coming out again.

I'd like to thank those who reviewed (I cannot respond to reviews due to a tight schedule, sorry):

_**A Gay Elephant Named Jonathan**_

_**SideshowJazz1**_

_**Hi14 x**_

_**Galaxina-the-Seedrian**_

_**Narfy**_

WOW! 11 chapters and 61 reviews? I'm so proud of myself! This could be the most popular story since Narfy semi-retired! Not saying this arrogantly, but still!

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	13. Escape

Eliza stormed out of the room, struggling to contain her boiling rage directed at Bart. She couldn't believe the behavior she was receiving from her own son. This was the first time in years that she showed some care for her own children, and yet, all she got in return was more angered rejection. The woman sat down on a bench, musing bitterly. If she played the bad guy, then she'd get hate, but if she played the good guy, then all she'd get is more hate._  
_

_"What _more_ can I do to gain their goddamn respect?!" _Eliza screamed in the corners of her mind. _"I feel bad for what I did! But what do I get in return for showing some emotion? Freakin' nothing! Nothing that'd matter to me, anyway."_

Sighing with frustration, Eliza stood up and walked her way around the hospital, guided by some unconscious, almost surreal force, until she finally reached the food court, which was occupied by dozens of people. Sitting down on another bench nearby, Eliza examined several of the people that were enjoying their midday snack. There was a lot of families present, but it figures, as it is a hospital after all. But what Eliza also noticed was that most of these families had daughters, and 'most' was taken literally. Everywhere she looked, there were daughters, clinging onto their loving mothers who enjoyed the wonders their little girls brought.

Mothers were everywhere, enjoying the company of their daughters. But Eliza, she was alone. Her own daughter was lying in a hospital room unconscious, all because of the love she failed to give her...

...And that's why she'd never get her respect, or respect from any of the other kids...

Eliza sighed, this time with sadness. She felt guilty for all that she did. Ever since Lisa was two, her life had been driven by hatred and jealousy. It all began when she noticed telltale signs that Lisa would have a bright future ahead of her, much unlike Eliza, who had the makings of a successful person but instantly lost it all to a simple night of pity sex. She remembered how jealous she felt when she examined Lisa, and she remembered that stupid, irrational decision to make her daughter's life a miserable experience, just so she didn't have to see what a success Lisa would become as an adult.

All of a sudden, in that moment of clarity, Eliza began to feel the painful memories of her own childhood creep back into her memory. When she was younger, her mother abused her, not only psychologically, but physically. And unlike Lisa, Eliza didn't have a father to protect her; instead, there was no father in her life, with him being replaced by countless ex-boyfriends who... who... Eliza ventured out of that disturbing part of her history. It was just too much.

Fortunately for her, a pitiful ex-boyfriend saved her from all of that when she was eight years old, and Eliza was adopted by a loving and caring family, but the abusive childhood took a toll on her mind and she spent her days reading, writing, and painting.

But with her experience at motherhood, Eliza was horrified to realize the revelation that...she had become like her own _mother_.

"Excuse me, is someone sitting beside you?" a voice asked. Eliza looked up to see a middle-aged woman with long dark-brown hair and wearing a pale-blue sweater, blue jeans, and a crimson kerchief. Slung over her shoulder was a brown purse, and in her hand was an old-looking cell phone.

"Uh, no, go on," Eliza replied, moving over to her left and beckoning the woman to sit, to which she partook the generous offer and sat down. Though she was looking in the opposite direction, Eliza could hear the woman turn on her cell phone, dial a number, and talk into it.

"Hi Laura, it's Mom. ... Listen, my checkup's done and I'll be coming over to the mall soon to pick you up. ... Meet me at the main entrance. ... Look, I know your shopping trip's important, but remember, we've got an appointment with your optometrist next. Okay? ... Okay, love you. Bye."

The woman hung up and prepared to stand up and leave when Eliza asked suddenly, "She loves you, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your daughter, Laura. She's given up a shopping trip that's most likely important to her, just to go back to you. That's how important you are to her, isn't it?"

"Of course," the woman replied. "She's my daughter."

"Listen, forgive me for wasting your time-"

"No, take your time."

"Okay. Well, has your daughter ever told you she hated you so much?"

"Occasionally, yeah. It's typical teenage behavior. I know how to deal with it."

"Has your daughter hated you so much that she ran away from home?"

"No." The woman raised an eyebrow. "Why? No, wait. Is that what your own daughter did?"

Eliza nodded. "Yeah. She's in the hospital because of that."

"Alright, what'd you do to her? Suspend her cell phone privileges permanently? Keep shadowing her whenever she goes out on a date?"

"No, she's too young for any of those things. It's just that..." Eliza looked around, hoping no one would listen. "Look, I'm aware that this is a serious crime, but...I've been treating her like trash. I said some terrible things to her. I've made her life a miserable experience, for as long as she knew. And...I hit her."

The woman's eyes widened, and she replied, "Oh my God. That's really serious! You'd be arrested for that!"

"I know. I guess...this is my confession..." Eliza sighed. "I'd like to turn myself in."

* * *

Marge looked at Lisa as she lay there on her bed, still unconscious and unresponsive. The schoolteacher lifted her hand and placed it upon Lisa's, a motherly sense of love and protection rushing up into the deepest corners of her mind. As she sat there, looking at this broken girl, Marge couldn't help but feel that she was partially responsible for Lisa's current well-being, and that she should've been there to protect her when Lisa desperately needed it.

"Are you okay, Marge?" Homer asked. Though he had said that he would be dropping by for a second, Marge noticed that he never made any attempts to leave and sensed that, like her, he felt responsible for the kids' well-being.

"Yeah..." replied Marge, not looking at him. Instead, she looked at Bart, who had fallen asleep. Next, she looked at Maggie, who she had placed into a basket, and the infant was now sleeping contently. All three Thompson children were silent, and looked rather peaceful in their dormancy.

"So...um..."

The nervous and hesitant tone in Homer's voice caught Marge's attention; she looked at him finally and asked, "Yes?"

"So...what're you..._doing_ this evening?" It was obvious Homer was trying to communicate with her, but couldn't find the right words to say. Marge decided to enlighten the assistant groundskeeper.

"Well, I'm gonna have to go back to my sisters. I'm sharing an apartment with them-" Marge sighed sadly. "-and it's a total pigsty. My sisters never make an attempt to clean up, and I always have to do it for 'em. And plus, they usually never treat me with much respect."

"Is there any _other_ place you could stay at?" Homer asked, the light suddenly going on in his eyes.

"Well, Artie said that if I needed it, I could stay at his house for as long as necessary."

The light in Homer's eyes vanished as fast as it came. "Oh. Okay. That's fine, that's fine..." Homer sat down on a chair and sighed. After a couple of minutes in silence, he suddenly said, "I don't like that Artie."

"Why so?" asked Marge. "I think he's nice and generous."

Homer looked at her, a look of annoyance on his face. "Nice and generous? He looks that way, but underneath, he's just a pompous, egotistic, self-concerned _jerk_. I've seen the way he teaches his students. Every time he gives an example of a problem, he always finds a way to incorporate himself into said example! And when it comes to pretty women, he acts as if he _owns_ 'em or something! He has a bad habit of staring at their chests and doesn't treat them with respect! You shouldn't stay at his house, Marge. It'll end up bad for you."

"You don't have any proof that Artie's that way," Marge said calmly. "Every time I come up to Artie, he always treats me the way I want. And he never stares at my chest, for that matter. Plus, Artie set up that program for gifted students! And you call him self-concerned."

"Well...well..." Homer stammered, "...okay, so there's that program of his. But I just KNOW he's not the one for you. You need someone who'll respect you, who'll marry you not because of your body but because of the way you treat others, who'll love and treasure you to the very end! I don't think Artie's qualified for that!"

"Why do you hate Artie so much?" Marge asked. "I like him, and I think he's a good man."

"A good man, a nice and generous man, a great person, blah blah blah!" Homer exclaimed angrily. "How in the hell does everyone not see the true side of Artie when it flashes right in front of their faces?! He's just a rich bastard who loves no one but his own reflection!"

Marge stood up, still calm but the anger rising inside. "You know what, Homer, I've had enough of your ranting. I want you to get out."

"What, you think I'm ranting? No, I'm just trying to tell you how much of a jerk Artie is and how he's not good enough for you!"

"Get out!" Marge snapped. "NOW!"

Homer stood still, his eyes drilling into Marge's as the two of them stared at each other hatefully. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Homer let out a frustrated grunt and stomped out of the room. Marge watched him go and then let out a sharp sigh to relieve herself of stress. Just then, she heard Lisa's voice moan out, "Mom...Dad...stop fighting...please..."

Marge looked at Lisa, whose eyes were half-open. Gasping with relief, she sat beside Lisa and said, "Lisa! Lisa! It's me, Ms. Marge! It's okay, Lisa, it's okay!"

"Huh? What?..." Lisa's eyelids fluttered fully open, and she gazed at Marge. "_Ms. Marge_?"

Marge responded with only a nod as she struggled to keep her overjoyed years at bay.

"W-What happened?..." asked Lisa.

Marge sighed heavily. She honestly didn't know how to explain everything to her. The fact that her father's no longer alive, that her mother's nowhere to be seen, that she nearly lost her life...

"It's a long story, Lisa," she replied. "Just rest up. You have a long week ahead of you..."

* * *

"Lousy Marge, thinking Artie's nice and generous," Homer mumbled furiously. Then, he mockingly mimicked Marge's voice, saying, "I think he's nice and generous, I think he's nice and generous, I think he's nice and generous! BLAH BLAH BLAH! GAH! Why the hell can't she see that Artie's just a stupid rich bastard! And that... Huh?"

His attention had been diverted by a police presence outside of the hospital, as well as a swarm of reporters. Running outside to see what was going on, he gasped upon seeing Eliza being escorted into a police car.

"HEY!" Homer shouted, pushing his way through the crowd. "HEY! THAT'S BART AND LISA'S MOTHER! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

"Mister, stand back now," said a curly blue-haired, rotund police officer, the same one from the Kwik-E-Mart.

"What's your name, man?" demanded Homer.

"Lieutenant Clancy Wiggum, head of the High Incident and Child Crimes Unit of Police."

"HICCUP?" Homer struggled not to laugh.

"Laugh all ya want, buddy," Wiggum replied, "but one more laugh and you're gonna be booked for making fun of a police unit's name."

"Is that even a real crime?"

"To me it is."

"Look, you can't arrest her! She's got three kids inside there who don't know where's she at right now and-"

"It's okay!" Eliza shouted. "It's okay, let them arrest me!"

"And why not?" asked Homer. "Your husband's dead, and you're all Bart, Lisa, and Maggie have left! Sure you're being a bitch to 'em but Marge and I can fix that!"

"No, it's okay. Let them arrest me. I called it."

"What? What does that mean?"

Eliza cracked a small smile. "I'm turning myself in. Call it an admittance to my misdeeds."

"But what about the children?"

"They're your responsibility now." Eliza's smile widened, and Homer noticed that it was one of happiness. "Take good care of them."

Before Homer could speak any further, a police officer closed the door on Eliza, just as another one drove it off. Homer couldn't do anything now but watch as the cruiser drove down the street, turned the corner, and vanished.

* * *

At the Springfield Penitentiary, the alarms were blaring at high volume, illuminating the rooms in their crimson light. Security guards desperately scrambled around the perimeter inside and outside of the fortified prison, hoping to cut off the route of the thirteen inmates that had taken advantage of a time gap between security guard shift breaks to escape from their cells. Little did anyone know that the inmates were underground, using a large sewage tunnel to make their escape.

"Are you sure this infernal metal tube will take us to the pickup spot, Gordon?" one of the inmates, who had large spiky red hair and freakishly long feet, asked.

"Trust me, Bob, the schematics my brother gave me are one-hundred percent accurate," replied another inmate, who had long, stringy brown hair and sagging skin under his eyes. "I took him months to prepare this thing. It can't fail us now."

"Dude, this tube, like, _smells_..." Snake Jailbird groaned.

"It's a sewage pipe, what'd you expect, Snake?" Bob replied.

"Quiet!" Gordon snapped. "I think I hear water dripping..."

Soon enough, the thirteen inmates had reached the end of the sewage tube. As all of them hopped out onto the bank of a river, they instantly noticed another sewage tube, which was pouring out fresh, clear water, unlike the infested, slimy sewage of the first tube.

"DAMN IT!" an inmate cried.

"Shut the hell up, Dwight!" snarled Gordon. "You don't wanna alert the guards now, do you?"

"Here he comes!" Bob said, pointing at a large red pickup truck that had stopped in the middle of the road. The fugitives scrambled up the riverbank and approached the truck; Bob, Dwight, and the other nine inmates climbed aboard the truck bed, while Gordon and Snake went inside the truck.

"You're a couple of minutes late, bro," the driver, a pale-skinned man with curly hair said. "An officer nearly booked me for parking on the wrong side of the road."

"Sorry, Willard," Gordon replied. "It's been a rough journey through that pipe. _Colossus_ here kept complaining about the abundance of rats."

"They would've ruined my technology!" exclaimed Colossus, a pale-skinned man wearing goggle-like eye-wear.

"Okay, no time for distractions!" said Willard. "Quick, let's make our getaway!" He turned to a boy that was sitting in the back seat with Snake. "BOY! Clean up this mess once we get to the safehouse, got it?"

"Got it, Dad," Wendell replied.

* * *

**A/N:** I've got a lot to explain for this chapter, so here goes.

It's obvious that I've included Sideshow Bob. At first, I didn't have any plans to include him in this fic, but I realized that since SideshowJazz1, a devoted fan of the villain, is reviewing this story (even though he admitted that he usually stays away from non-Sideshow Bob stories), I should give him/her (I don't know your gender, sorry) a reward for the reviews he/she sent. So, at first, I thought of a cameo where Bob appears as Krusty the Clown's sidekick. Eliza would see him entertaining a family, except that it's only Krusty who's entertaining them and Bob's getting abused as part of the comedy. It was gonna be a small scene that would hint at where Bob would eventually be heading in this AU (same as the original show, huh?), but as my idea of the cameo progressed and Sideshow Cellophane 26, another Sideshow Bob fan, joined in on R&Ring the story, I found this cameo scene unnecessary and I expanded Bob's role. So yeah, he'll be antagonizing our heroes, but he'll only be having a supporting role and do nothing that special. But think of this as a reward for you guys, SideshowJazz1 and Sideshow Cellophane 26. Thanks for becoming interested even if this story wasn't your type!

You've noticed that Wendell Borton, a character that you would only see in the show if you look at the Springfield Elementary schoolchildren closely enough, has a bit of a role in the story, and also in my other fic "The Simpsons of Future Passed" (which I recommend you R&R, it's a bit low on reviews). Why is this background character who doesn't see the light of the spotlight much have a prominent role in my fics, may you ask? Well, if you've seen the episode "Homer's Odyssey", you'll see Wendell having some glory under the spotlight, for a brief moment. Ever since I saw that episode, I have become interested in his character. I feel that because he pukes all the time, he would become alienated from all the other kids (actually, that would be untrue, as you can see him playing with other kids if you look closely enough), and I see a good story in that. So yeah, he's in my stories, and it is likely you'll see him in future ones as well. Speaking of which, I am planning to write a Wendell-centric story. I doubt it'll get much reviews, but I hope that by telling you guys this, it'll at least warrant some attention.

And lastly, Homer and Marge's fight scene. I will spoil to you that the two of them will end up together by the end of the story, but of course that is to be expected. But I feel that with Artie still in Marge's picture, I needed to get a move on to slowly kick Artie out and bring Homer into Marge's love life. And of course, I needed it to be dramatic. And therefore, the fight scene. Now, I have this odd feeling that the scene was a bit awkwardly-written, so I apologize to anyone who thinks similarly. Especially to Narfy, one of my favorite reviewers and authors, who has been asking if there would be a love scene between Homer and Marge and would be genuinely surprised if she saw this instead. There _will_ be a love scene though, Narfy, just so you're relieved of wanting to know the answer. But if you mean 'love scene' by 'sex scene', then likely not, as I'm not comfortable with writing sex scenes. But a romantic kissing scene is nice enough for me.

PHEW! I'm done! Hopefully someone reads this ramble; someone's gotta know what I have to say.

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**SideshowJazz1 [Thanks for accepting the chapter's short length! And hope you enjoy this little reward of yours!]**_

_**Sideshow Cellophane 26 [Thanks for your review! Enjoy your reward!]**_

_**Narfy [Whoa, you kinda scared me there! **_**XD _Yeah, now you know there's gonna be a love scene. Thanks for your review!]__  
_**

**_Hi14 x [Hopefully this was soon enough. ENJOY!]_**

WHOA! Minus the Author's Note ranting, this has gotta be the story's longest chapter yet! I'm so proud of myself! The next thing I need is for this story to reach the 100-review mark, and I'm gonna die a happy man.

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	14. Back to School

**A/N:** Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Hope you enjoy this new chapter!

* * *

Lisa sat quietly in her desk as she watched Marge teach a new lesson of math. Even though she knew all of the material by heart, she decided to listen to Marge anyway. As she did, she also pondered on the past events that occurred.

It was just a week after her and Bart's release from Springfield General Hospital, and after Eliza was put in a jail cell for her confession of child abuse. Following these events, the three Thompson children were put in foster care. Fortunately, they were still living in Springfield, and their foster family was extremely nice and generous, treating them with more respect than they thought they ever needed. To make matters much better, their new home was in a well-kept part of the Springfield suburbs, and they didn't find it difficult to say goodbye to the rundown conditions of the Rat's Nest.

Each and every day, Marge and Homer would always drop by to see how they were doing in their new home. Lisa admired the two for their caring and concern that seemed to border on parental, and even though she loved her foster family, she couldn't help but feel better under their care. The only real problem was that Marge and Homer were now treating each with bitter contempt every time they saw one another, actions that they refused to explain to her or her siblings.

Her friends from the Rat's Nest also dropped by for visits, and they all voiced their congratulations for her success in achieving a better home. However, Lisa couldn't help but feel that they were now jealous of her new life. It was understandable, as they were still left to toil in the Rat's Nest, but she feared of losing them and finding herself with another failed social life.

As for her biological parents, Lisa was shocked to learn that Eliza had voluntarily turned herself in, and that Brad was dead. For some unknown reason, the eight-year-old was more surprised to learn of Eliza's fate than Brad's, no matter how much the news of his loss viciously struck a chord in her heart. And pretty soon, she would be sitting in a trial stand, facing her mother and testifying against her for all of the pain she suffered at her hands.

Even though he was enjoying the new life he received, Lisa sensed that inside, Bart was shattered at the loss of his father. Whenever Brad had enough time for the children, he was closest to Bart. And now that he was no longer alive, Bart looked like an empty shell. Lisa found some small comfort in the fact that Bart was now establishing a close friendship with Homer, whom he now seemed to be looking up to as the father figure of his life.

"Alright, kids!" Marge announced, snapping Lisa out of her musings. "I shall now pass back your English tests. Ralph, here's your test. Good job, by the way!" She gave one of the test papers to the pudgy boy with the stringy hair sitting at Lisa's left.

"I fell in English?" Ralph asked. "That's not impossible!"

"And Allison, here's yours," Marge said as she gave a paper to the redheaded girl sitting at Lisa's right. The girl examined her grade and gasped.

"Ms. Marge, is this grade right?" she asked.

"Yes, Allison, I'm afraid it is," replied Marge as she continued to pass out papers.

"But this _can't_ be right, Ms. Marge!" Allison held out the paper for Marge to see. "I've never gotten an A- before!"

"It's an A, Allison, and that's what counts."

"But it's not a complete A+, Ms. Marge!" A panicked look went into Allison's face, which slightly frightened Lisa. "It's not a complete A+!"

"At least the A still stands for 'Allison'," Marge said. "You've tried your best, and that's what counts. Now Lisa, here's your test. A job well done."

Lisa received her test paper, which read an A+. Unfortunately for her, Allison spotted the grade and gasped again.

"Hey, no fair, Ms. Marge!" she cried. "_She_ gets an A+!"

"That's because she tried her hardest, Allison," Marge replied. "Now, I admire you very much, but if you keep up this behavior, you're giving me no choice but to give you a referral for bad behavior."

Allison sighed angrily, and Lisa felt her classmate's eyes staring straight at her hatefully.

"Teacher's pet," she heard her mumble.

* * *

During lunchtime, Lisa purchased her lunch and was walking over to the table where Colin and the others were sitting when she heard another voice speak to her.

"Hey, aren't you Lisa Thompson?"

Lisa turned around and recognized the African-American girl with long, curly dark-brown hair and wearing a pink dress, the one that was in her class.

"Yeah, yeah that's me," she replied. "Why? Here to call me a nerd or something? Well then, let's get it over with, 'cause I gotta eat with my friends."

"Yeah, you're a nerd," the girl said, "but I think you're cool for one."

Lisa was taken aback by this response. "Y-You _are_? That's something I never get from anyone at school."

"Well, I think you're cool. Finishing a test in under fifteen seconds is seriously hardcore. Why don't you come eat with me and my friends?"

Lisa looked back at Colin and the others, then at the girl.

_"Is this a ploy to lure me in and get me pranked?"_ she thought. _"Or is it because this girl just finds me _cool_? Oh, decisions, decisions..." _When the girl smiled at her, Lisa couldn't help but feel a little warm inside. _"Well, making some more friends wouldn't hurt."_

"Sure thing," Lisa replied.

"Cool!" the girl said. "My name's Janey, by the way. Did you know that rhymes?"

"Pleasure to meet you, Janey-" Lisa giggled. "-and I know it rhymes!"

Janey led Lisa to another table, where several other girls were sitting. There was a pair of identical twins with pale skin and pale-violet hair, and wearing pink dresses and equally pink bows in their hair; a girl with blonde hair tied in a ponytail by a blue bow and wearing a blue dress; a girl with blonde hair and wearing a white shirt, a green striped vest, a red skirt, and a red beret; a girl with blonde hair tied into two ponytails by pink bows, and wearing a pink dress; and, to Lisa's shock, the redheaded girl from her class, Allison.

"Guys, this is Lisa, the classmate of mine I told you about," Janey said.

"Hi, Lisa," the girls chirped, except for Allison.

"What's _she_ doing here?" Allison asked accusingly.

"Allie, be nice," replied Janey, frowning.

"Yeah, Allie," the girl with the red beret added. "Where's your, like, sense of acceptance?"

Allison didn't respond, but instead frowned at Lisa as she sat down next to Janey.

Lisa quickly learned the names of the other girls sitting at the table with her, Janey, and Allison. The twins were named Sherri and Terri, the girl with the single ponytail and wearing the blue dress was named Becky, the girl wearing the red beret was named Alex, and the girl with two ponytails was named Melissa. The group spent most of the lunchtime talking about boys, fashion, and their grievances on life, things that took Lisa aback, as she never expected these girls, still in elementary school, to already be concerned about teenage issues.

"You know, Lisa," Alex said, "I really like your dress. Despite its simplicity, it actually fits your look really well."

"Um..._thanks_?" Lisa nervously replied.

Janey raised an eyebrow. "Lisa, you haven't talked much," she said. "Come on, give us something here. We're willing to hear whatever you say."

"Um...uh..._uh_..." Lisa began to sweat nervously as everyone stared at her intently. She didn't know what to say to them; they were definitely not the kind of friends she expected, but she didn't want to ruin her chances. Finally, she decided to settle on something that randomly came to her mind. "Have you guys heard about that new store at the mall? Man, does it look lame or what?"

Much to her relief, the other girls nodded in agreement. "Yeah, the Leftorium looks really useless," remarked Becky.

"Totally," Terri replied.

Lisa sighed with relief; she had never been to the mall, let alone hear about a store such as the Leftorium. She randomly cast a glance at Allison and froze fearfully upon seeing her hateful expression.

"You obviously don't know what you're talking about, do you?" Allison asked.

"What?" Lisa began to laugh nervously. "Of course I know what I'm talking about, Allison! What do you think I am, some loser or something?"

"Yeah, Allie, just like, back off a bit," Janey added defensively. "She's a newbie in our group."

"The worst newbie ever," snarled Allison. Janey abruptly stood up and faced down the redhead.

"Listen, Allie, you hate Lisa because she got an A+ and you got an A-. So what? You still got an A, and you're making yourself look lame. If you can't accept Lisa for who she is, then call yourself an ex-member of our group."

Allison looked from Janey to Lisa in shock, and suddenly, she stamped her foot angrily, catching the attention of everyone in the cafeteria. "Well, if you're accepting this lame-o into our group, then I guess...I guess I'm OUTTA HERE! See ya, girls!"

And with that, Allison snatched her lunch tray and marched off.

"Jeez, what a jerk," Sherri said.

"All she got was an A-, and she easily overreacts," added Terri in agreement.

"Ah, she'll get over it, guys," Lisa said, looking at Allison as she sat at a lonely, unoccupied table.

"I doubt it, Lis," replied Janey. "Allie obsesses too much over her grades."

"Just like me..." Lisa mumbled. Then, her eyes widened and she asked, "Wait, did you just call me 'Lis'?"

"Yeah. Well, I just feel that Lis, like, flows much nicer than Lisa."

"Yeah, it, like, sounds better to call you just by Lis," Alex agreed.

"Unless you think it's, like, a bad idea..." Terri added.

But Lisa smiled. "No, it's a great idea. I mean, no one's ever called me Lis except for my brother and my frien-" She was about to complete her sentence, but for some reason, Lisa found it unnecessary to mention her friends from the Rat's Nest. "Actually, scratch that, just my brother. He's the only one I know who calls me Lis."

"Your brother?" Janey asked. "You mean the boy who pelted Nelson Muntz with that tomato?"

"That's him," replied Lisa.

"He's cute," Becky said.

"Totally," added the other girls, except for Lisa.

"Speaking of which, Lis," Janey said, "you have any boys that you, say, have a _crush_ on?"

"Ooooohhh!" exclaimed the other girls, writhing in delight and leaning in close to hear Lisa's response.

"Well..." At the corner of Lisa's eye, she could see Colin, who was eating his sandwich. "...there _is_ this one boy..."

"EEK!" exclaimed Alex. "That's totally _awesome_! Who's the guy, Lis? I MUST know! Is it Langdon Alger? Kyle LaBianco? Rex Harrison? Jimbo Jones?" She suddenly sighed dreamily. "_Donny Alexander_?"

The other girls sighed, and Melissa said quickly, "It had better not be Donny, Lis! He's all _mine_!"

Seeing Colin at the corner of her eye again, Lisa pondered over her answer. She knew that the girls might abandon her for being friends with a resident of the ever-infamous Rat's Nest, and she didn't want to ruin her chances at having more friends. The eight-year-old was still overly concerned about her social life, and she was determined to not let it go to waste like all the other times. So, she instantly picked the first thing that came to her mind.

"It's Donny Alexander."

Melissa sighed. "Aw, God! Donny's practically won the hearts of half of the school!"

Lisa smiled sheepishly. "Sorry..."

"Nah, that is to be expected, Lis," Janey replied.

"Lisa?" a voice asked. Lisa turned around to see Mary, Wendell, and Ronaldo standing behind her. "Aren't you gonna eat with us?"

"Lis, you eat with those _Twisties_?" Janey asked in shock.

Lisa looked from Mary, Wendell, and Ronaldo to Janey and the other girls. Then, she replied, much to her own surprise, "_Eat_ with them? I don't even _know_ 'em! Why would I wanna be affiliated with those _Twisties_? Shoo, shoo, shoo, before you infect me with the germs of poverty!"

The other girls laughed jocularly at Lisa's remarks, to which Mary, Wendell, and Ronaldo's jaws dropped open. The trio then left in utter shock, leaving behind a now-shocked Lisa.

* * *

**A/N:** You're probably gonna be asking where this new plot (or more like plots) is going. You'll see eventually...

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**SideshowJazz1**_

_**Sideshow Cellophane 26**_

_**Hi14 x**_

_**Narfy**_

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	15. Marge's Helpful Advice

**A/N:** I love updating this story...

* * *

_BBBBBRRRRRIIIIINNNNNGGGGG!_

The sudden, loud ringing of the school bell startled Lisa, who had been too absorbed into Marge's lessons. For a moment, the ringing reminded her of Eliza and her angered statements of criticism. Letting out a sigh of relief upon realizing that it was just the bell, the eight-year-old started packing her stuff as Marge's voice filled her ears, the pleasant, gentle tone soothing her a bit.

"Alright class, what should all of you be doing tonight?"

"Doing our homework, studying, and having fun!" chorused the entire class, including a joyful Lisa.

"Excellent, class!" she replied happily. "I'll see you all tomorrow!"

"Bye, Ms. Marge," several students said, some of them sadly. It was completely obvious that they didn't want to leave her watch.

Completely putting away her school materials, Lisa stood up from her desk and followed her classmates out of the room, waving at Marge as she left; the blue-haired teacher smiled warmly and waved back at her as she passed. Her smile growing wider by the minute, Lisa approached her locker, where she found Colin, Wendell, Mary, Ronaldo, and Charlie, also approaching their own lockers.

"Hi, guys!" Lisa said, but she stopped when her greeting was met with bitter, hateful frowns. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Don't go into denial, Lisa," replied Mary angrily. "We still remember that little showbiz you pulled off in front of those popular girls."

"Oh, that?" Lisa started giggling nervously, then went serious. "Look, they were showing an interest in me, because of _who I am_. No one's ever shown an interest in me because I was being myself!"

"We did, Lisa," Colin said bitterly. "_We_ appreciated you for being you."

"But that wasn't you at that table," added Ronaldo. "That was a completely different Lisa. One who was caught up in the chaotic vortex of _popularity_."

"Look, I'm sorry for what happened back there-" Lisa began, but Colin cut her off.

"There's no need to apologize to us anymore. You've got a new home with a loving family. And you've got new friends, all of whom have means to give you countless more friends. Why should we _Twisties_ make any difference to that? We won't interfere with you anymore. Go on, join your new friends. Enjoy your new life, Lisa."

"_Colin_..." Lisa said, but it was too late. Colin, Mary, and Ronaldo marched away, leaving behind Wendell and Charlie.

Lisa smiled at the two, but then Charlie approached her with a sad look, sniffled, and said, "Congratulations, Lisa. Goodbye." And with that, he walked away as well.

Which left Wendell alone with her.

"Wendell-" Lisa began.

"Don't even bother!" snarled Wendell, and he stalked off.

Lisa watched her friends walk away from her, further and further down the hallway, until they rounded a corner and disappeared. Horrified at what just happened, the eight-year-old leaned against her locker and sat down, struggling to hold her tears back.

"Hey, Lis!" a voice greeted. Lisa looked up to see Janey approaching her, followed by Alex and Melissa. "Wanna go shopping at the mall with us? We've got coupons!"

"Thanks, but I'll pass," she replied. "I have an appointment with my psychologist."

"Oh, that's right, that entire fiasco with your mom," said Janey. "Well, your loss. We'll see you tomorrow, Lis!"

"Bye," Lisa said, waving at the three girls as they walked away. She then sighed and stood up, musing over her new situation.

The girls were very generous and kind, but they also seemed to be too preoccupied with being mature for their age. Meanwhile, her friends from the Rat's Nest were also caring and gentle, but unlike the girls, there was nothing better than their friendship. They were practically brothers and sisters to her, and what did she do in return for their generosity and sincerity? She just threw them away like trash, all in exchange for a chance to gain some more friends.

"Lisa, is something wrong?" Lisa looked up to see Marge approaching her.

"No, there's nothing wrong," replied Lisa as she unlocked her locker and opened it, though there was nothing inside to retrieve.

"Oh, I know that look, Lisa," Marge said. "It's a look of guilt. What did you do, Lisa?"

Lisa sniffled and closed her locker. "Oh, Ms. Marge, I totally messed up! I made some new friends, but they're all more concerned about being mature!"

"Oh, you're talking about Janey and her friends." Marge shook her head with slight disapproval. "If I was their mother, I'd be disappointed in what they do. Did they already try to set you up with a boy to date?" Lisa shook her head, to which Marge sighed with relief. "Oh, that's good."

"But that's not all, Ms. Marge!" Lisa exclaimed. "I already had some friends, from the Rat's Nest."

"Let me guess, you wanted to look good in front of Janey and the other girls, so you pretended you didn't know them and treated them like dirt."

Lisa nodded. "I'm so disappointed with myself. It's just that, well, every time I come into a new town, I'm always unpopular in school and I have only one or two friends, but they also come from the unpopular crowd! And in the last town, Boise, I had absolutely no friends at all. Everyone kept bullying me and even the teachers treated me with some contempt. When I came to Springfield, I feared it'd be worse than Boise.

"But it wasn't. Springfield redefined my _life_. I made friends in the first couple of days I was here, friends who had similar situations at home as me, friends whom I can really relate to. For once in my life, I was at the top of the social ladder, and it didn't matter what social background my friends came from. But it's obvious that I felt that I shouldn't stop there. I wanted more friends still. And look at where that got me."

"Lisa," Marge said, kneeling down so she can face Lisa, "I know where you come from. Trust me, when I was your age, I wasn't so lucky with making friends either."

"Really?" asked Lisa, her eyes wide and her interest piqued.

Marge nodded. "Kids kept teasing me because of my last name. Wanna know what my last name is?"

"What is it?"

"Bouvier."

"Isn't that a French name?"

"Yeah, my father was from France, God rest his soul. Anyway, people at school called me 'Marge Boobier'."

"Oh, my God, that's horrible!" Lisa exclaimed.

Marge briefly sighed. "Yes, yes it was horrible. Anyway, Lisa, what I'm trying to say is that I know what it's like to be desperately searching for someone you can really call a true friend. And sometimes, even if you have friends, you'd think that that's not enough, and that you need more friends to be fully satisfied. You see, you're just acting out on an inferiority complex that was imposed on you by your mom's psychological abuse. But you don't have to think of yourself as a lowly person. Those kids from the Rat's Nest, the ones that are your true friends, _they're_ your real friends. And that's all you've gotta be happy about. There's no need to have anymore friends if you already got them."

Comprehending Marge's words of wisdom, Lisa nodded in agreement. "You're right, Ms. Marge," she replied. "They're my real friends. _They_ understand how I feel. I can relate to _them_. And what have I done to thank them? Nothing. But that's gonna change! I'm gonna go apologize and thank them!"

"That's the spirit, Lisa!" Marge said, smiling.

Lisa smiled back, looking up at Marge with complete admiration. She couldn't help but feel attached to Marge. She was the mother she never had. She was always there for support and encouragement, unlike Eliza.

Unable to bottle her feelings anymore, Lisa leaped forward and embraced Marge in a tight hug.

"Thank you _so much_, Mom," she said.

"You're welcome, Lisa," Marge replied, returning the hug. Her eyes then widened in confusion. "Wait, did you just call me-"

"Oh, sorry!" Lisa realized her mistake as instantly. "I meant Ms. Marge. Thanks for the advice, Ms. Marge."

"Oh, enough with this Ms. Marge stuff! Just call me Marge. That'd be fine enough."

Lisa smiled. "That's more than fine. Thanks, Marge! Thanks for all the help you've given me!"

"You're welcome," Marge replied as she watched Lisa run off. Smiling after the little girl, she couldn't help but feel that maternal instinct in her again. For some reason, she experienced a few occasions in which Lisa seemed like a _daughter_ to her.

"Hello, Marge, I assume you're doing well." Artie Ziff had approached her, a charming but pompous-looking smile on his face.

"Hey, Artie," Marge replied absentmindedly, still staring after Lisa.

* * *

"Are you sure we should be out here?" asked Bart as he and Lisa entered the Rat's Nest.

"Why?" Lisa replied. "We've lived here for a couple of days. Why'd you come anyway if think this is a dangerous place?"

"No particular reason." But Bart blushed furiously, and Lisa knew why. For the past few days, he had a crazy crush on Mary Spuckler.

Just then, the two stopped. Before them was the house they once stayed at, still looking dilapidated and rundown as usual. But what surprised them was the fact that there was Eliza's car, still present in the driveway.

"What're you kids doing here?" a familiar voice demanded. The two siblings turned to one of the house's windows and saw Eliza inside.

"What're _you_ doing here?" retorted Bart.

"I had to be placed under house arrest due to prison overcrowding," Eliza replied. "I'm supposed to stay inside here at all times until my trial comes up."

"Well, we're lucky," snarled Bart. "We're lucky because we don't have to deal with your crap anymore. Hope you burn for what you did to us, Eliza."

"Look, I'm sorry for what I did to you kids. Be sincere and truthful all you want at the trial, you two. But just know that I'm sorry."

"I'm not buying that crap. You're just trying to guilt-trip us so then we can testify in your favor and you'll be found not guilty and then we'll have to live with you again."

"Yeah, how're we supposed to believe _you_?" Lisa added angrily. "For years you've made me feel terrible about myself. But not anymore, _Eliza_. I've got a new mother in my life, one that actually cares for me and cherishes me like I'm her child!"

"Yeah, it's Ms. Bouvier, I'm gonna guess," replied Eliza.

"You're damn right!" Lisa had never cursed much, and she still found it distasteful, but she found this occasion to be excusable. "And it's _Marge_. Now if you'll excuse us, we've got some friends to visit."

Lisa and Bart then resumed walking to Colin's house, refusing to look back at Eliza. As they approached the house, they could hear a strange conversation.

"So, how's the plan going, Bob?" one voice asked.

"Well, Willard," a British voice replied, "it's a large bank, but with our numbers, I think we've got each and every square inch of the building covered. Dwight and Edgar are taking care of the tellers, while Snake, Gordon, Cletus, Randy, and I are taking care of the main vault. Icepick, Dale, and you are gonna watch the hostages, while everyone else is either outside watching for cops or manning the getaway cars."

"Dude, this is, like, _exciting_!" a familiar voice said. "We're gonna be, like, freakin' RICH!"

Bart gasped. "I _know_ that last voice!"

"Who is it?" asked Lisa, but before Bart could respond, he suddenly hit his foot on a pile of bricks that appeared to have no use. The ten-year-old yelled out in pain and clutched his foot, then the two children gasped upon hearing a deadly silence inside the house.

"What the hell was that?" the British voice asked.

"Sounded like it came from outside," a fourth voice said.

"BOY!" the first voice screamed. "DID YOU INVITE **COMPANY**?!"

"No, sir," Wendell's meek voice replied. "Just me and my friends."

"It had _better_ be..."

"Check it out!" ordered the fourth voice. Just then, the front door opened and two men stepped out. One was tall with messy grayish-black hair and bug-like eyes, while the other was taller and thinner, with spiky red hair and freakishly long feet. Lisa and Bart dived behind the pile of bricks just in time to be unnoticed.

"There appears to be nothing here," the bug-eyed man said.

"Nonsense!" the red-haired man replied with the British voice. "What I heard _definitely_ didn't sound like this neighborhood's trademark pests! There's someone else present, but where?..."

Bart gulped and moved his arm to adjust his position, but unfortunately, his elbow hit a light, loose brick that fell over from the pile. The two children gulped as the two men stalked over them.

"Well, well, well," the red-haired man said, "what do we have _here_?"

* * *

**A/N:** OH NO! Bart and Lisa are in big trouble! Who'll possibly save them? MWAHAHAHAHAHA! I am evil, aren't I, with my cliffhangers and all?

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**SideshowJazz1 [You'll find out who's fostering the kids in the next chapter or the one after.]**_

_**Sideshow Cellophane 26**_

_**Mimi-loves-llamas [Hey, you're reviewing! Thanks!]**_

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	16. Captured! Part 1

**A/N:** Sorry for not updating in a while. School's started again and I've been a bit busy. But now the weekend's started and I can start working on this again.

Before I begin, I will announce that there will be a sneak peek of a new "Simpsons" fic of mine seen at the end of the chapter.

ENJOY!

**Edit:** If anyone wonders where the sneak peek of "Holding On" went off to, I removed the material because it wasn't needed anymore.

* * *

Marge smiled slightly upon driving her newly-repaired green station wagon up to the driveway of her precious childhood home. She loved visiting her parents, Clancy and Jacqueline Bouvier, both of whom took such good care of her and her sisters when they were kids. But this time, she wasn't here for any average visit; she sought their advice on this new emotion of hers, an emotion that was directed at Lisa, Bart, and Maggie. For some reason, the schoolteacher treated these three siblings unlike any other child she came across. As if they were _her own children_...

Parking the sedan, Marge switched off the engine and got out of the station wagon, just as the front door opened and Jacqueline Bouvier stepped outside. Jacqueline looked exactly like her youngest daughter, having a kind face with a warm smile and graying hair styled into a very tall beehive.

"Mom!" Marge cried, walking up to her mother and embracing her in a tight hug.

"Oh, Margie," replied Jacqueline joyfully as they parted, "how nice of you to visit us again! Your dad's gonna be _so_ thrilled to see you."

Smiling, Marge walked into the house, closely followed by Jacqueline. The first noise Marge heard was the blaring of an old TV, which she recognized as the family TV that they owned for decades now; Marge was surprised to know that the small contraption still functioned. Following the noise of the set, she found the stout, gray-haired man she called her father sitting on a sofa, holding the remote in one hand and a can of Duff Beer in the other, and hanging from his mouth was a lit cigarette. Clancy Bouvier glanced at Marge and, forgetting the TV, smiled and stood up, stretching out his arms.

"My little blue-jay!" he exclaimed happily, hugging Marge. "Marge, oh Marge, how the hell are ya?" He then finished this sentence with a short series of sharp coughs, a habit that Marge came to see as his trademark.

"Great, Dad," replied Marge, gagging a bit from the tighter-than-needed hug she was receiving from Clancy. "Can you let go now?"

"Oh, sorry." Clancy broke away, coughing a bit. "So, what brings ya here, Margie? Your sisters bothering you again? Just know that I can ensure they're on their best behavior..." He cracked his knuckles menacingly, causing Marge to chuckle nervously; Clancy, being a former U.S. Navy sailor, never let go of his training and was willing to incorporate it in the best possible opportunity.

"No, no, not at all, Dad," she replied. "It's about-"

"Is it about that Artie Ziff?" Clancy smiled widely and approvingly, taking out his cigarette. Jacqueline, who was also in the room with her daughter and her husband, also smiled. "You wanna finally ask him out on a date but you don't know how? I'll give ya some pointers on how successful and up-and-coming men like him think..." He then finished that sentence with another series of coughs.

"It's not about Artie Ziff, Dad. It's about those three children I told you about-"

"Those Simpson kids?"

"Thompsons, Dad," Marge corrected.

"What about them, Marge?" Jacqueline asked.

"Ever since I found out that their mom was abusing them, I had these..._emotions_ for them-"

"Don't say anything anymore, Margie," Clancy replied. "Just know this, my little blue-jay, you are fully capable of _resisting_ those-"_  
_

Marge instantly knew what her father was getting at, and was horrified. "NO, DAD! It's not like that AT ALL!"

"Oh." Clancy coughed. "Huh. What is it, then?"

"Well, when I say emotions, I meant these, well..._concerns_ for them. Like I was now responsible for them. Their mother is now in jail, their father's dead, and they're all in a foster family on the other side of the town. They're in good hands, but I still feel like it is my duty to take care of them-"

"Ah, I get what you're getting at, Marge," replied Jacqueline. "I know what those concerns are."

"What are they, Mom?"

"You've got this motherly feeling over them. You remember why you became a teacher?"

"Because I wanted to interact with children." Marge smiled. "When I graduated from college, I wanted to have a job that I could fully enjoy and find the fun in. Since children are vibrant, fun-loving, and just pure innocence, I felt that being a teacher was the best job for me."

"But then you found an example of the contrary with children," Jacqueline replied. "These Thompson kids, the abuse they suffered at the hands of their mom scarred them physically and psychologically for life. Their innocence has been tarnished, and you believe that it is your responsibility to restore it. To do that, you know that you need to guide them, to teach them the goods and wrongs of life, and to give them the love they've always wanted. That's being a mother."

Marge sighed. "Mom, you know how I don't wanna be a mother. I don't want my child to hate me or something. And I don't wanna be a terrible mother."

"But those kids won't hate you, Margie. That's because _you're_ the mother they've wanted their entire lives. You fulfill their desires, their standards. They wouldn't wanna let you go because of some petty thing like hate. They'll view you as their real mother for the rest of their lives. Don't you dare think your kids will hate you, Marge. Kids can't hate their parents forever. And plus, you're no bad mother. You've already honed your talent in being a mother through teaching.

Jacqueline chuckled. "You know, Marge, I had the same situation as you when I was pregnant with your sisters. I feared that they would hate me, or that I would teach them the wrong morals and they would become a bundle of messes as adults. I contemplated on putting them up for adoption. But I took my chances and turned down any chances, and look at where Patty and Selma are! Patty's the owner of a burlesque house and Selma works for Laramie Cigarettes!"

Marge frowned disapprovingly and crossed her arms. "Mm-hmm..."

Jacqueline immediately recognized the gesture and sighed in response. "Okay, okay, so they're not what I expected them to be, but look at you! Marjorie Bouvier, my little girl, working as a _schoolteacher_!"

"And the best damn schoolteacher Springfield Elementary's ever hired!" Clancy exclaimed, patting Marge's shoulder as he coughed. "Those critters practically hang onto you for dear life!" He coughed again.

"So, Marge," said Jacqueline, putting her hands on Marge's shoulders and looking at her seriously in the eyes, "don't worry about the kids hating you, or you being a bad mother. None of those two will EVER happen. Why? Because you are _you_, and that's what counts. You know how to carry yourself through life without our help, and that tells your dad and I that we've taught you well. And since you know well from us, you can teach those Thompsons our same lessons."

Marge smiled, knowing that her mother was right with her words. "You're right, Mom," she replied. "I'm a great mother. After all, I'm being one to my students. What difference does it make to Lisa, Bart, and Maggie?" She embraced both of her parents in a brief hug and then ran to the door. "Sorry guys, but I've gotta go! I've got three children to adopt!"

"Won't you take a couple of brownies with you on your way out?" Jacqueline asked.

"I would, thank you very much," Marge replied as she briefly passed by the kitchen and grabbed some of her mother's homemade brownies. She then dashed out of the door and got into her station wagon. Starting the engine, she backed out of the driveway and drove away as her parents watched.

Jacqueline sighed with approval. "Our little Margie's growing up, one step at a time," she said happily.

"Yeah," Clancy replied, taking a whiff of his cigarette. "Now all I need is for Marge to ask that Artie Ziff out, and I will die a happy man." He coughed.

* * *

Lisa and Bart strained hard against the rope used to tie them to a pair of wooden chairs, but found the struggling to be useless. Instead, they stared up at the gang of criminals that had captured them, seething with hatred. Bart was especially staring at Snake Jailbird with so much rage, as the man was responsible for Brad's death. Watching nearby were Lisa's friends, all looking ambivalent in the disastrous matter.

"What the hell are you doing to us?" demanded Bart.

"Doing to you?" Willard Borton replied, smirking. "Well, kid, we're obviously gonna kill you and your sister for your nosiness. We can't afford to have any witnesses for our little operation."

"What operation?" Lisa asked.

"None of your business, little girl," a man with pale skin and black hair snapped menacingly, but the red-haired man named Bob stopped him from making any moves.

"Now, now, Cutter, let's not be harsh," he said. "Well, gentlemen, since these kids are under our wing, it wouldn't hurt to enlighten them. They won't be able to thwart our scheme anyway, as we're gonna murder them afterwards."

"Agreed," Dwight replied.

"If you insist, Bob," said Willard, facing Lisa and Bart. "Well, you two, if you must know, we plan to launch a series of attacks on Springfield. First, we plan on totally bombing the courthouse and the police station as vengeance for them arresting our comrades-" He pointed to Snake, Bob, Dwight, Cutter, and nine other men. "Next, we will hit the newly-opened First Bank of Springfield, robbing it empty of all the money stored inside. And finally, we all go our separate ways, skipping town and living our lives billions of dollars richer!"

"**HUZZAH**!" the other criminals chorused triumphantly.

"And all of that will happen under one hour, the average police response time," Willard completed.

"Really?" Lisa asked, unsatisfied. "One _hour_?"

"Like, DUH!" snapped Snake in response. "There's the whole police-station-bombing thingamajig, and any remaining officers would be so, like, patrolling faraway areas." He then chuckled jocularly. "Stupid girl, doesn't, like, get the plan at _all_-"

"DON'T CALL MY SISTER STUPID, YOU BASTARD!" Bart screeched, only to be struck across the face by Willard.

"Shut your trap, ya runt!" the pale-skinned man snarled. He then softened suddenly and patted Bart's head. "I apologize for that. That was pointless."

Bart was confused. "What? Really?"

Willard smiled. "Yeah. After all, we're gonna kill you, here and now, and I'd rather have you die with your dignity than none at all. Alright Bob, you're up!"

Lisa and Bart paled as the red-haired man procured a shiny, large blade and stepped towards them.

"I bid you two children an _arrivederci_!" Bob growled.

"A what now?" Bart asked, confused.

"It's Italian for 'goodbye', you unsophisticated, uncultured twerp!"

Bart chuckled. "More like nerd-talk for 'I'm so lame'!"

"Really?" Snake asked. "That's, like, your best comeback? I've seen better..."

"I'm tied up right now; you didn't give me enough time to think my words through."

"Hm, a fitting epitaph," replied Bob.

Bart just stared blankly and then shrugged at him, earning a yowl of rage from the red-haired, long-footed man.

"GAH! IT MEANS 'LAST WORDS'!"

"What're you trying to do, educate me or kill me?"

"Both, if I have to!" Bob angrily raised the knife and prepared to strike when Mary suddenly ran into the fray and stood between the two, stopping the criminal.

"WAIT!" she screamed. "DON'T KILL THEM!"

"And why in bloody hell not, little girl?" Bob demanded.

"SPUCKLER!" barked Willard. "Get your daughter's priorities rearranged, will you?!"

"Wait a minute," a slack-jawed, brown-haired man with a Western accent replied. Apparently, he looked as reluctant as his daughter. "Let's just let her have her say."

"You don't wanna kill a couple of kids now, would you?" Mary asked, looking up at Bob.

"I've killed innocents before, little girl," Bob replied coldly. "The lives of two children wouldn't make much of a difference to my morality."

"No, don't kill them, please!" Colin pleaded, stepping beside Mary. The rest of Lisa's friends followed, and she beamed at their courage. "They're our friends! We'll ensure that they won't tell anyone of your plan, just don't kill them!"

"Colin, step aside now!" snarled a red-haired man who greatly resembled the Irish boy, even having the accent. However, Colin refused to oblige, instead standing his ground with the rest. Bob turned to Willard.

"What do you suggest?" he asked.

Willard stared at Wendell, who stared back at him fearfully but also with a great hint of defiance, and let out a grunt of annoyance.

"Fine. We spare the kids." He then pointed at Wendell. "But _you_ are gonna keep them here in this house so they won't open up their traps to ANYONE! You and your miserable excuses for friends. Is that clear?!"

"Yes, sir," replied Wendell, while the rest of the gang nodded.

Willard sighed sharply, furiously muttered something under his breath, and resumed planning with his accomplices. The only criminals still watching the children, however, were Snake and Bob.

"I've got my eye on all of you," snarled Bob. "Especially YOU." He pointed at Bart. "You're really a thorn in my side..."

Bart frowned at Bob in response, then looked at Snake, the hate rising up in his body. But he knew better than to unleash all of it upon Brad's killer in a torrent of violent, unrelenting rage, so he just continued looking at the smirking thief as he and Lisa were untied.

* * *

"Why are your parents doing this, guys?" Lisa asked. She, Bart, and her friends were seated in Colin's bedroom upstairs, so that they were away from earshot of the group of criminals. "Getting themselves affiliated with a horrible plan like this?"

"They wanna get rich," replied Colin. "What else?"

"Despite the fact that someone will get hurt?" Bart reiterated.

"My father never cares about anything. None of our parents care." Colin pointed to the rest of his friends. "Well, maybe except for the Spuckler parents. They look like they were rather forced into it."

"But Ma and Pa wouldn't be willing to back out from this either," Dubya replied. "Like the others, they wanna get rich too."

"Why don't you do something about it?" asked Lisa.

"Their our parents, Lis," Ronaldo said.

"No, no they are, guys." Lisa stood up defiantly, shocked at what she heard. "The moment they started abusing you, or at least allowed themselves to get caught up in this mess, they completely _betrayed_ the meaning of a true parent. Parents NEVER voluntarily subject their children to extreme physical or emotional harm! They NEVER disregard their children's lives and instead preferring their own over theirs. And they would NEVER, EVER allow you guys to live like this.

"Colin, your parents argue with one another and they treat you like trash. Wendell, your father beats you senseless, to no end, and never stops. Ronald, Pepi, your parents fight you. Charlie, your parents hate you more than insects. Mary, Jitney, Whitney, Crystal Meth, Dubya, Incest, International Harvester, Birthday, your parents are more concerned about getting money than your well-being. Patches, Poor Violet, you were abandoned by your only mother and you depend on these other, more horrible parents, dependence that really isn't returned. And yet, you all DEFEND them?! How do you guys sleep at night? Huh?"

There was no response. The room was silent, save for the voices coming from downstairs. Finally, Colin sighed and stood up.

"You're right, Lis," he said. "They were never our parents. Real parents don't do this to us. But what else are we supposed to do?"

"Look at me!" exclaimed Lisa. "Look at Bart! We stood up to our mom, we made it clear to the world of our home problem, and now we're living with a caring foster family! We no longer have to live the horrible, ghastly life we once lived! We now have better lives! And you guys can have better lives too. You're all better than this!"

"You think so?" Wendell asked.

"Guys, you've all been so great to me. You've helped me through a time of need. Now it's time for me to return the favor."

Lisa approached the nearby window, slowly opened it with a slight creak, and gestured to the open space.

"You want us to _run away_?" Whitney asked.

"And alert the police before it's too late," completed Lisa seriously.

Colin looked at the rest of the kids, who nodded at him, and then he nodded at Lisa. "Let's do this," he said.

Within a few minutes, all seventeen children had managed to scale down Colin's bedroom blanket, which they tied to his sturdy bed, and land on the ground in Colin's backyard, which led into the woods. After helping Birthday, the last child, down to the ground, Lisa pointed to the woods.

"We'll go through the woods," she said. "The wire fence at the end will lead us into Evergreen Terrace. There, we'll alert someone. Okay, let's go!"

The others nodded, and everyone broke into a mad sprint towards the shelter of the woods. The ground was completely devoid of grass, so they didn't make much noise as they ran. But a few seconds later, Bart suddenly tripped on something and struck his knee hard on a solid surface, causing him to instinctively scream in pain.

"Bart!" Lisa moaned, running up to her brother and noticing the bleeding scrape on his knee. "Are you okay?"

"Goddamn it," snarled Bart, looking at the object that tripped him. "What the hell are these bricks supposed to be for, anyway?"

"Come on! We've gotta go before they-"

"Did you hear that?" they heard Willard ask from inside the house.

"Sounded like it came from the backyard," another voice replied. Lisa and Bart looked at the backyard door fearfully, seeing a pair of cold eyes staring through its window. "What the? Those damn kids are escaping!"

"WHAT?!" Willard shouted. "GET THEM, GET THEM QUICK!"

Lisa and Bart instantly ran after the other kids, hearing the backyard door swing open violently and then several male voices panting as the criminals pursued them. Bart took a brief second to look back and saw Willard, Snake, Bob, Dwight, Cletus, and two others following them, but he didn't know where the others were.

As for Lisa, she began to feel her right arm throb painfully and feel looser and looser by the minute. It had been severely broken during her running-away incident. Unfortunately, there wasn't much done to heal it; she had been told by the doctor presiding her case, Dr. Nick, that the hospital's budget cuts cut the usage of a cast by a lot of days necessary. Therefore, she only wore a cast for a couple of days until it felt slightly better, but she wasn't allowed to use her right arm much or commit exercise such as running. And she was doing the latter right now. But Lisa knew that she couldn't stop running, otherwise the criminals would catch her.

A few minutes later, the kids managed to reach the wire fence, with their pursuers almost a mile away, being unable to make their way through the terrain of the woods, but they were closing in fast. There was no gash in the fence for them to slip through, so the kids resorted to climbing over it. By the time it was Lisa's turn to climb it, the criminals were a few yards away.

"Hurry, Lisa!" Bart cried. "Climb the fence!"

Lisa looked up at it, all the while feeling the throbbing pain of her right arm. She looked at it, then at her brother and her friends.

"Go without me," she replied.

"WHAT?!" everyone exclaimed.

"Get out of here! I won't be able to climb the fence with my fragile arm! Go, go! I'll distract them! Just go!"

"I'm not leaving you here, Lis!" Bart cried, tears beginning to stream down his face. "I _won't_! I can't lose you like we lost Dad!"

"I'll be fine, Bart! Just go! Please!"

"No, I'm NOT gonna do that, Lis!" To everyone's shock, Bart climbed the fence back to the other side. "If you're gonna do a move like this, then I'm doing it with you!"

"Bart, NO!" Mary cried, clutching the wire fence and staring straight into Bart's eyes. "They're gonna _kill_ you!"

Bart smiled. "Then I might as well do this before I die."

"Wh-" Mary began, but she was cut off the moment Bart kissed her in the lips through the wire fence. The kiss lasted for a few seconds, however, when Willard and Snake managed to catch up and grab Lisa and Bart.

"GO, GO, GO!" Lisa shouted at her friends. "GET OUTTA HERE, GET HELP!"

Realizing that they had no other choice, Colin nodded and led the others towards the suburbs. Mary and Wendell stared longingly at Bart and Lisa, then nodded and ran after their friends.

"**NO**!" Willard screeched. "GET THEM!"

"Too late, Willard," replied Bob. "They're nearing the suburbs. We try to snatch them over there, we're risking our chances."

"GODDAMN IT!" Willard let out an inhuman yowl and then twirled Lisa around so she could face his cold, piercing gray eyes, which were alive with burning rage that would even overwhelm the fires of Hell. Lisa could feel herself being back under the abuse of Eliza, and shuddered upon hearing the pale-skinned man's hateful words.

"You ruined EVERYTHING." He then smiled sadistically. "Now you're gonna PAY DEARLY for that."

* * *

Marge drove her station wagon to the home of the Dodd family, the family who was fostering Bart, Lisa, and Maggie. The teacher got out of the car, approached the front door, and rang the doorbell, eager to tell the Thompson children the news that she was planning on adopting them. Pretty soon, the door opened to reveal a blond man with a blond mustache and wearing a light-green shirt with a dark-green tie and gray jeans.

"Oh, hello there, Ms. Bouvier," the man greeted. "It's nice to see you again. Here to check on the children, as usual?"

"More like here to _adopt_ them," replied Marge proudly. "I know it's gonna take some paperwork and all, but I just thought I'd come here to make the announcement."

Mr. Dodd smiled approvingly. "Adopting them? My, the kids would be _so_ thrilled. They really look up to you, Ms. Bouvier. Like a mother, really. It'd be great for them. But if you're in the mood to break the news to the baby, be my guest."

"Huh?"

"Bart and Lisa aren't here. They went off somewhere."

"Where?" asked Marge.

"Good God, I'm not good with names. But my daughter Darcy would know. Darcy?! Can you come to the front door?!"

A teenager with long blonde hair and wearing a pink shirt with a little purple bow, white shorts, and a pink necklace of a cross soon appeared in the doorway.

"Yeah?" she asked. Darcy then beamed at Marge. "Oh hey, Ms. Marge."

"Hi, Darcy. D'you know where Bart and Lisa went? I need to find them."

"Lisa wanted to visit her friends in the Rat's Nest Neighborhood and Bart went with her for accompaniment. Boy, did he look excited for some reason."

"Thanks, Darcy," Marge replied as she ran off for her station wagon.

* * *

Homer yawned as he sat back on the sofa, watching the TV set that blared before him. Watching television was the best way for the assistant groundskeeper to cool down after long hours of cleaning up every nook and cranny of the school corridors. Allowing himself to be subjugated by the TV's influence, it was an uncomfortable pull back into reality the moment the doorbell to his house rang, its nasty, church organ-like ringing hammering away at his eardrums.

Sighing, Homer stood up and approached the front door. "Note for self," he said, "get a new, more quieter doorbell."

He clutched the doorknob and turned it, for the knob to instantly detach itself from the front door, a common problem Homer faced every day. He sighed again.

"Another note for self, get a new house."

Homer clutched the door handle and yanked back at the door, opening it. Standing there were Colin, Wendell, Mary, and the other children, all panting, exhausted from their long run.

"Whoa, what happened to you kids?" Homer asked, fear rising up in his body.

"Help..." croaked Colin. "They've...got...them..."

"Who? Who's got who?"

"Lisa...and Bart..."

Homer's skin went pale.

* * *

**A/N:** I read Narfy's latest review and saw her comment about my miss with Lisa wearing a cast because of the injuries she received. I realized that, so I concocted the whole budget-cuts solution to wrap the matter up. So yeah, thanks Narfy, for pointing that out and I hope you're satisfied with the little solution I cooked up. And then Sideshow Cellophane 26 sent a review asking about how Sideshow Bob landed his butt in jail without Bart's involvement. Well, consider your question answered! If you didn't catch it, just read it again. It should stand out.

I'd like to thank those who reviewed (can't answer reviews now, sorry):

_**SideshowJazz1**_

_**Hi14 x**_

**_Guest reviewer_**

**_Narfy_**

**_Sideshow Cellophane 26_**

Well, I guess that's it for my rant. It looks like this is the story's longest chapter yet! JUBILATIONS!

TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	17. The Great Rescue, Part 2

**A/N:** Am I awesome in updating this or what? ENJOY!

* * *

Being tied up for a second time in the same day wasn't really much of a comfortable experience for Lisa. In fact, this time was much more terrifying than the last one. It could be because that this time, she and her brother Bart were engulfed in the darkness of a small room, but unanimously because the two of them were gonna be murdered in a couple of minutes. Though she couldn't see her brother, Lisa could hear the ten-year-old was struggling against his restraints, but she didn't move an inch.

"Bart, it's useless," she said. "Struggling doesn't really help someone in a situation like this."

"Yes it does!" Bart exclaimed in response. "All those action movies say so!"

Lisa sighed, dissatisfied by the fact that her brother continued to follow the generic formulas of movie genres. "Bart, it's _useless_," repeated Lisa. "We're not living in a movie, we're in the real life. We're not gonna get outta here by just struggling!"

"We've gotta do _something_! Those bozos are gonna hurt innocent people if we don't get ourselves outta this mess!"

"My friends will stop them. They're getting help as we speak."

Bart finally stopped struggling and looked at his sister with serious eyes, even though he couldn't see much in the darkness. "But what about _us_, Lis? What about us? What's gonna happen to us? Your friends don't have enough time for us! And I don't wanna die now! I'm living the life! _Eliza_ isn't raising me anymore, I'm living with a loving family, and I think I've started a little relationship with Mary. I don't wanna let all of that go! And especially not because of a bunch of losers like them. Including _Snake Jailbird_..." He spoke the name with the most bitter of contempt, and his eyes darkened menacingly.

"At least we'll get to see Dad again..." Lisa replied comfortingly.

Bart's face softened, and he nodded. "Yeah. That'd be good..." He then burst into tears. "I miss him!"

"I know, me too." Lisa sniffled, feeling her own tears of sadness streaming down her face.

Just then, Bart cried, "Wait! Dad wouldn't want us to accept death like this! He'd want us to find a way to survive!"

"But what can we do?" Lisa asked. "They've learned from their mistakes. They've tightened the ties on the ropes, and they locked us into a closet, the door of which is being guarded."

"We've gotta do _something_-" Bart began, but before he could continue, he and Lisa heard the ringing of a doorbell. They heard the voices of their captors talk, then some movement, and finally, the front door opening.

That was when the two heard a familiar voice greet, "Hi, Mr. Borton! Is Lisa or Bart Thompson with you?"

"Marge!" Lisa and Bart whispered simultaneously.

* * *

"Lisa or Bart Thompson?" Willard asked, feigning confusion as his son's former teacher stood before him. "Never heard of the names."

"I have information that the two went over to visit Wendell and his friends," replied Marge, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Wendell and his friends went out," said Willard hurriedly, "and I never really pay attention to what the hell those rascals are doing." He said the last statement with bitter hatred that Marge noticed, prompting her to frown and cross her arms disapprovingly.

"You should, Mr. Borton. Your son could be in trouble as we speak."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he was," Willard said in a near-snarl. Cletus Spuckler, who was nearby, sensed trouble and stepped in.

"Uh, hiya there, that nice teacher of Mary's whose name I forgot," he said. "I remember Mary saying that she and her friends were running off into those woods behind the O'Sullivan house." He pointed out the house, as well as the woods behind it, and Marge noticed that it was beside the old Thompson house. "Maybe these Lisa and Bart characters met up with 'em there. Or something..."

"HELP!"

Marge suddenly became alert, like a deer when it sensed danger. "What was that?" she asked.

"Uh, some horror movie I'm watching," lied Willard instantly. "Not for the faint of heart, Ms. Bouvier-"

"No, it sounded like it came from _inside_ the house..."

Willard flared his nostrils and his skin became paler. He was obviously getting irritated. "Of course! We're watching it on a television set, which is _inside_ the house!"

"I know what you mean, Mr. Borton," replied Marge, "but what I meant was that voice came from somewhere _other_ than the TV-"

"HELP! MARGE, HELP!" the voice called again.

"O'Sullivan, man, can you _lower the volume of the TV_, please?" Willard called.

"Sure thing, Willard," O'Sullivan's voice replied.

However, Marge wasn't convinced. "Since when do horror movies have a character named after ME?" she asked suspiciously.

"Purely a coincidence," Willard lied between clenched teeth. He began to escort Marge away. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Ms. Bouvier, we've got a horror movie to watch-"

"MARGE! IT'S LISA!" Lisa's voice screeched. "HELP US! WE'RE BEING HELD C-"

The voice was cut off, but Marge instantly recognized the fear in the eight-year-old's voice. Before she could act, however, Willard wrapped his arm around her neck and put her in a choke-grip, while his unoccupied hand slammed itself over Marge's mouth to silence her screaming.

"You try to call for help, and the kids die," growled Willard.

But Marge knew he was gonna kill Lisa and Bart either way. Remembering the overambitious fighting lessons her father gave to her, she kicked Willard hard in the shin, causing him to yell out and instinctively release her to hold his wounded shin. Marge then ran through the doorway and punched Cletus hard in the face, so hard that she could actually feel the surface of his skull practically biting into her knuckles. Clutching her hand in pain, she then looked up and saw three men running for her, recognizing their faces from the news as three of the thirteen prisoners who escaped from the Springfield Penitentiary:

The red-haired, long-footed man was Robert Terwilliger, a psychopathic serial killer who murdered thirteen people across the state; all of the victims were involved somehow in the entertainment business. The brown-haired man with the bug-like eyes was Dwight Diddlehopper, a man who committed a total of eleven armed robberies at gas stations, liquor stores, and convenience stores, all of them occurring under three days. But the criminal that caught her attention the most was...

"YOU!" Marge screamed hatefully, landing a hard, unforgiving kick to Snake Jailbird's you-know-where. "THAT'S FOR KILLING BRAD, YOU BASTARD!"

"GAH! LIKE, MY CUBES!" groaned Snake, falling to the floor.

Bob and Dwight jumped over Snake and tried to take on Marge together, but she stomped on one of Bob's feet really hard, and as the red-haired man jumped on one foot in pain, she then grabbed the nearest object lying on the floor and struck Dwight hard on the face with it, knocking him out cold. Marge then threw the object as hard as she could onto Bob's stomach, sending him to the ground and knocking the wind out of him.

"Hm, what's this brick doing here?" Marge asked, looking at the object she used to attack Dwight and Bob.

A second later, she fell to the ground, unconscious. A triumphant Gordon stood over her, holding a rake.

"Same thing this rake is doing here," he snarled. "For useful occasions such as this."

"You know," Bob said, "after years of stepping on those things, I must say that rakes have become our salvation."

"That's great and all," replied Snake, still writhing on the floor. "Now, can you, like, help me? Oh, I'm gonna feel this tomorrow..."

* * *

Lisa and Bart were screaming everything they could to Marge, just as the closet door opened to reveal O'Sullivan, who was holding a ring of silver duct tape. Stripping out some pieces, he forcibly placed them over their mouths before they could say anything else. But just as O'Sullivan closed the door, they heard the sounds of Marge fighting Willard and Cletus.

_"Whoa, go Marge!"_ thought Lisa.

The two heard more fighting. Then, they heard Marge scream "YOU!", which was followed by a yelp and then Snake groaning, "GAH! LIKE, MY CUBES!" There were some more fighting noises, and suddenly, the next thing the two heard was Marge grunting in pain, and nothing more. Sweat emerged on Lisa's forehead as she began to fear the worst...

The door opened again, revealing Willard, Gordon, and Snake. Willard forcibly pulled their chairs out of the closet, which was when they saw an unconscious Marge tied to a third chair, duct tape also over her mouth. Gordon tore the duct tape off of Lisa and Bart's mouths, to which Lisa then shouted, "MARGE!"

"She's unconscious, little girl," replied Gordon. "She won't be coming to until a couple of hours. But by that time, she'll be _dead_." He then smirked. "As well as you two."

* * *

Homer hurriedly drove his pickup truck onto Hopeless Avenue, with the Rat's Nest kids all sitting on the truck's bed. Stopping alongside the Borton house, the engine rattling loudly and foully as he did so, the assistant groundskeeper got out of the truck, manning his handy mop and twirling it.

"Shouldn't we wait for the police, Assistant Groundskeeper Homer?" Colin asked.

"There's no time!" replied Homer. "Marge, Bart, and Lisa are in there and the police won't get here in time! I'll go save them, while you kids stay here in the truck!"

Before the children could protest any further, Homer had already rushed into the house.

"He's not gonna last three seconds in there," Ronaldo said.

"Agreed," replied Colin. "Come on, guys, let's show our parents that we're not as worthless as they call us!"

* * *

Homer burst into the Borton house, issuing an off-tune battle cry and ready to beat the crap out of the people responsible for hurting Marge and the kids. Three seconds later, he stopped in his tracks upon being faced with a small army of the inmates, all of them holding rifles and pointing them at the assistant groundskeeper. The only one not holding a rifle was O'Sullivan, who was smirking triumphantly at Homer.

"Nice try, cleaning boy," he said, "but we heard the lovely noise of your truck engine outside." He turned to his comrades and nodded. "Kill him."

"D'oh," was all Homer could mutter as the inmates readied their guns.

Suddenly, two cans were thrown through the still-open front door, issuing a thick cloud of smoke into the inmates' faces, causing them to cough and cover their faces. Homer looked out of the door to see the Rat's Nest kids, all of them wearing gas masks. Wendell was holding three spare gas masks, one of which he gave to Homer.

"Since when'd you guys learn to make smoke bombs?" Homer asked as he wore the gas mask.

"A few months back," replied Mary. "We were experimenting with some of my dad's spare stuff. We have been hoping this would be useful someday."

Homer led the children up the stairs and onto the second story while the inmates continued to cough and wander about aimlessly. Colin dropped another smoke bomb on the stairs, just as O'Sullivan, lost in the smoke, tried to go up it. He slipped on the can and fell down the stairs, hitting his head hard and rendered unconscious.

"HA! THAT'S FOR ALL THE CRUD YOU SAID TO ME FOR ALL OF THOSE YEARS!" shouted Colin, laughing.

The group continued to the master bedroom, where they found Willard, Gordon, and Snake preparing to shoot Lisa, Marge, and Bart with rifles. Before the three criminals could act, Wendell threw a smoke bomb in Willard's face, knocking him down and spewing smoke onto Gordon and Snake as well.

"**THAT'S **FOR ALL THE ABUSE YOU GAVE ME, **WILLARD**!" Wendell shouted, running up to his father and kicking him while he was still down. Meanwhile, Homer untied Marge while Colin and Mary untied Lisa and Bart, giving the two the remaining spare masks.

"You _came_..." Lisa said.

"Of course we did," replied Colin, smiling. "Friends never leave each other behind, do they?"

"Alright, we'll save the chitchat for outside!" exclaimed Homer as he lifted Marge's still-unconscious form. "Let's go, let's go!" He ran out of the room and down the stairs, with the children closely following.

As they reached the bottom, Bob suddenly appeared from the smoke, reaching out for the nearest person: Mary. Bart instantly noticed this, grabbed the rake that was lying next to his foot, and smashed the wooden end down on Bob's freakishly long foot hard. As the red-haired criminal screamed in pain, Bart then swung the end, striking him across the face. Bob fell to the side, hitting his end on a stair.

"I regret...what I...said...about..._rakes_..." moaned Bob before slipping into unconsciousness. Bart grabbed Mary's hand and led her out of the house.

* * *

From the safety of her home, Eliza had seen the smoke emerging from the Borton household and had already called 911 minutes ago, reporting a fire. She watched as Homer led the children out of the house, still carrying Marge's body. She sighed in relief the moment she saw Lisa and Bart run out of the house, safe and sound.

Suddenly, the corner of her eye saw something. Looking at the window into the master bedroom, she gasped upon seeing Willard Borton opening it and climbing out, a rifle in his hand. His nose was badly misshaped, there was a fresh bruise on his right eye, and his lip was cut. These physical attributes, plus his ever-pale skin, made him look like a monster out of a horror movie.

Eliza's heart pounded even more the moment she watched Willard aim his rifle at Lisa.

_"Take care of the children...and properly too, please..."_

Brad's words were hammering away in the corners of her mind as Eliza, fully disregarding the fact that she was still under house arrest, dashed out of the house, acting on an instinct. Time seemed to slow still as she ran towards Lisa, while Willard prepared to pull the trigger. She didn't know how much longer the man was gonna adjust his aim until he actually fired...the minutes were ticking by in Lisa's life, and Eliza's next actions depended on the eight-year-old's fate...

Eliza was just nearing Lisa when Willard pulled the trigger...

* * *

**A/N:** Ooh, suspenseful, eh? Who's gonna get shot? Eliza or Lisa? I'm betting that all of you would want Eliza shot, 'cause everyone hates her. But I like to be sadistic sometimes, so you'll see... And before I get on with the other matters, I will remind you that Gordon is Willard's brother from Chapter 13, and that O'Sullivan is Colin's father, since Colin's surname is O'Sullivan.

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**SideshowJazz1 [I'm glad you think this is suspenseful!]**_

_**Hi14 x [Here's the newest update!]**_

_**Guest reviewer**_

_**Narfy**_

_**Sideshow Cellophane 26 [And a response from your fellow earthling: Thanks for your review, it is very much appreciated!]**_

Well, hope you enjoyed this suspenseful chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	18. A Final Move, Part 3

The single gunshot rang out with a deafening _POP!_ that spread and echoed throughout the Rat's Nest Neighborhood like ripples in the water. Other than that and the smoke billowing out of the Borton household, time seemed to stand eerily still. Everyone was standing soundlessly still, paralyzed, rooted to the ground as if an unseen force was holding them there. No one seemed to have the faintest clue on what happened.

Finally, Lisa gasped, as if she had just risen out of the water in search of oxygen. She expected a surge of pain to shoot up into her brain and then spread all over her body through the nervous system, but no pain came. This was strange, she knew. Willard had directed the shot at her...

She then noticed the still body lying in front of her. There was no mistaking that spiky, half-starfish-shaped hair.

Lisa's jaw dropped open in shock. Her brain commanded a scream to escape her mouth, but nothing came. It was as if her voice had been muted out. Instead, she stood there, staring at Eliza's unconscious, or maybe even dead body lying on the ground. The eight-year-old couldn't believe Eliza actually took the bullet for _her_... She didn't CARE for her! Why'd she make that noble sacrifice?

But there was no time to seek answers. Remembering Willard just a split-second later, Lisa looked at the roof and saw the pale-skinned man pulling the bolt of his rifle, ejecting the spent cartridge case, and then closing the bolt as fast, occupying the now-empty breech with a new round, completing the process in just a second. Taking one last look at Eliza, Lisa then made a dash behind Homer's truck, just as Willard fired again, hitting one of the truck wheels.

"HEY!" shouted Homer. "That's my TRUCK!"

Willard instantly pointed his rifle at Homer, pulled and closed the bolt, and fired again. Fortunately, the assistant groundskeeper dodged the bullet, taking cover behind his truck along with the rest of the children. Setting the unconscious Marge to the ground, Homer took a deep breath and faced the children.

"Kids, get Ms. Marge outta here," he said. "I'll distract him."

"Homer, NO!" Bart cried. "He'll _kill_ you!"

"He'll kill you too if you do not move to a safer shelter. You kids don't deserve to die like this. Now, go!"

Before anyone could stop him, Homer dashed out of the truck, grabbed a rock lying on the ground, and threw it as hard as he could at Willard. However, he missed and hit the roof shingle beside Willard's foot. The pale-skinned man smirked and aimed his rifle at Homer, firing a shot. Homer ran out of the way and then picked up another rock.

"COME ON, IS THAT BEST YOU'VE GOT?!" Homer screamed seconds before throwing the rock. This time, he managed to hit Willard in the eye, knocking him down and nearly causing him to slide off the roof. "YEAH!"

Meanwhile, the children worked together to half-lift and drag Marge's body towards the old Thompson house. As they reached the front door, Lisa heard Marge groan.

"Marge? Marge!" Lisa cried.

"W-Wha?..." groaned Marge, her eyes fluttering open. "_Lisa_?" She smiled warmly. "You're okay..."

Lisa returned the smile. "Yes, I'm okay. Everyone's okay. ...Except for Homer..."

Marge's eyes widened and she sat up. "Why? What's Homer doing?"

"He's distracting my dad," Wendell replied. Marge gasped and looked at Homer, who was continuously throwing rocks and whatever else he can at Willard, who was now struggling to reload his rifle.

"HOMER!" Marge shrieked.

Homer turned at Marge's direction. "Marge?" he asked.

Just then, Willard, having reloaded his rifle, pointed the weapon at the assistant groundskeeper and fired a shot that struck his shoulder, causing him to yell out loud in pain. Willard opened and closed the bolt again, then fired another shot that went through Homer's leg, spraying the concrete sidewalk with his blood. Gasping in concern, Marge ran out into the street towards Homer. Lisa gasped and looked at Willard, who was now pointing his rifle at Marge and opening and closing the bolt once again. She then glanced at Eliza's body, then at Marge. Memories of Brad lying still in the casket during his burial flashed through her mind. Without warning, the eight-year-old broke into a run.

"LISA!" Bart screamed, running after her.

Just then, Willard fired again.

Fortunately, the bullet hit Marge's tall stack of hair, bursting through it and leaving a comical hole in the teacher's beehive. The gunshot didn't make her stop; instead, she increased her run and reached Homer. Willard then spotted Lisa, loaded his rifle, and fired a shot. The eight-year-old felt asphalt fly up onto her leg, but she refused to stop running.

Another shot came. She felt something whiz past her ear.

Another shot. Nothing. She looked up at Willard and saw that he was reloading. She then reached Marge and helped her support Homer as they all helped the assistant groundskeeper get to the Thompson house. Bart caught up with them and joined them.

Lisa looked back and saw Willard aiming his rifle at them. Then, a flying rock suddenly hit him in the head. She looked at Homer's truck, where Colin, Wendell, Mary, Ronaldo, and Jitney were throwing rocks and other objects. Colin nodded at Lisa, and she smiled at him before continuing to support the wounded Homer.

The moment they reached the Thompson house, Lisa heard the sounds of wailing sirens. She looked at her left and saw fire-trucks heading up the street. Suddenly, a shot rang out, and one of the siren lights exploded. Willard was now firing on the fire-trucks.

Helping Homer down to the ground, Lisa looked back at her friends with concern. They were still throwing whatever they could at Willard, but they were running out of things to hurl. Willard now aimed his rifle at the children, and they dashed to the back of Homer's truck seconds before he fired yet another shot. She then looked at Eliza's body and noticed something.

Eliza was moving her arm. She was alive!

Instinctively, Lisa ran back again. "LISA, NO!" Marge screeched. She instantly left Bart and Homer and ran after the eight-year-old girl. Another shot rang out and Marge felt something tear through her arm. But there was no more pain. All there was was concern for Lisa's safety.

Lisa reached Eliza's body and turned her over. She instantly saw the gunshot wound in Eliza's abdomen.

"Mom?" Lisa asked. "MOM!"

"L-Lisa?..." Eliza croaked.

"Don't worry, Mom. We're gonna get you outta here." She then saw Marge run up to them, a through-and-through gunshot wound in her arm. "Marge! Your arm!"

"It's nothing," Marge replied. "Come on, Eliza, we're getting you outta here."

She and Lisa lifted Eliza and the two half-dragged the woman across the street, just as police cruisers arrived on the scene. Lisa looked back at Willard, who had just reloaded his rifle yet again. He then aimed it at one of the police officers, but several new gunshots rang out, and Willard instantly tumbled off the roof and landed on the concrete driveway with a sickening thud. Lisa instinctively looked at Wendell, whose skin had now gone paler.

Lisa then looked at the officers and firefighters that were approaching her, Eliza, and Marge. It was over.

* * *

**A/N:** I know, short chapter is short. But hey, at least it had a lot of action in it!

I'd like to thank those who reviewed (can't answer reviews right now):

_**SideshowJazz1**_

_**Sideshow Cellophane 26**_

_**Narfy**_

**_Comicbookguy666_**

**_Guest reviewer_**

Well, hope you enjoyed this action-packed chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	19. Good News and Bad News

**A/N:** Whoever will my 100th reviewer be? Will it be SideshowJazz1, who seems to be the first person to review all the time, or Narfy, my most devoted reviewer? I'm down to those two choices, but we'll see... Anyway, thanks everyone, for the great reviews! I'm so pleased with this story's success and I hope to see you all in other stories. Speaking of which, I already have another "Simpsons" fic up if you'd like to read it. It's called "The Life of an Assassin", and it's only got one chapter, but a considerable amount of shock factor into it.

* * *

Lisa didn't think that she'd be back at the Springfield General Hospital, but indeed, she was. In the wake of the Rat's Nest fiasco, she and Bart followed along as Marge, Eliza, and Homer were all taken to the hospital for gunshot wounds. And now, the two of them were sitting by Marge's bedside as the schoolteacher recovered from the minor surgery performed on her injured arm. Also in the room were Homer and Eliza, who received more serious surgeries; Eliza was rendered unconscious by the excessive blood loss.

Just then, the door opened and the Dodds came into the room, Darcy carrying Maggie. "Oh, thank God you guys are okay!" Mr. Dodd exclaimed, hugging Lisa and Bart. "We saw the news and came here straight away! Are you two okay?"

"Yeah, we're okay, Mr. Dodd," replied Lisa. She then took a laughing Maggie from Darcy. "It's good to see you again, silly Maggie!"

Mrs. Dodd, in the meantime, addressed Marge. "Thanks for protecting the children, Ms. Bouvier. How can we ever repay you?"

"It's nothing," Marge replied, smiling at Lisa and Bart as they played with Maggie.

"No, we have to repay you somehow! You risked your own life to take care of the children."

"Uh, hello?" Homer moaned. "Guy who drove over to the Rat's Nest and got shot over a hundred times, right over here! I need some credit!"

"Homer, you were only shot twice in the shoulder and leg," Marge said, giggling.

"Really? It feels like I got shot over a hundred times." He weakly shook his fist. "Lousy surgeons..."

Everyone laughed at Homer's scene of humor. Marge looked at Lisa, Bart, and Maggie, all of whom were laughing the hardest at the assistant groundskeeper. Her smile widened as she realized that now was the time to break the news to them.

"Kids?" she asked.

"Yeah, Marge?" Lisa replied.

"I have something to tell you."

The three Thompson children listened intently, while the Dodds looked at each other with understanding.

"You know," Marge said, "you three children were unique to me, the first moment I laid my eyes on each and every one of you. All of you struck to me as bright and brilliant-" Bart scoffed at this remark, but Marge ignored it. "-and I felt your parents should be credited for that. But when I came by to visit, I was greeted by your nightmare of a mother. It was this meeting that I doubted your safety in your home. I made it a top priority to keep you three safe.

"Now that that goal's been accomplished, I still feel empty, like there was one last thing to be done. I didn't know what it was. But as I continued visiting you three children and learning more about you, I felt a sense of special responsibility over you all. A responsibility only one person in your entire lives can be qualified to take on. The responsibility of motherhood.

"I myself don't have any children. I thought I would find enough happiness with my students. But when I met you Thompsons, I realized that I have a higher calling than this. So, I have talked with your foster parents about this matter, and they agree with me on what I told them."

"Which was?" Lisa asked, but she immediately knew the answer.

"To adopt you."

There was a brief silence, and then, Bart broke it.

"You want to _adopt_ us? Me and my sisters?"

Marge nodded. "Yes. I really want to. I wanna be the mother Eliza wasn't to you. I wanna fill that role that has been barren for so long. I hope to be many things to you, but only if I receive your opinion on it. ...What do you children think?"

The response was instantaneous.

"Of _course_!" cried Lisa, blinded by tears of happiness as she hugged Marge, closely followed by Bart, who then helped Maggie in hugging the schoolteacher.

"We _want_ you to adopt us!" Bart said. "Please do!"

"You...you're _serious_?" Marge asked, surprised. "You really want me to adopt you three?"

"YES! YES, YES, YES, ADOPT US!" shouted Lisa, a bit too loud that it startled everyone else in the room.

"I guess it's official!" Mr. Dodd said, smiling approvingly. "Well, children, it's gonna take a little time. There's some formal paperwork to do-"

"Screw that," replied Bart absentmindedly. "Consider us...what's your last name, Ms. Marge?"

"You don't wanna know," Marge and Lisa said simultaneously.

Everyone laughed again, and Homer, Mr. Dodd, and Mrs. Dodd applauded as Marge embraced the Thompson children.

Little did they know that Eliza, who had regained consciousness a couple of minutes ago, overheard the entire conversation. She cracked a tiny smile of happiness, which then turned into a sad frown.

* * *

Lisa skipped out of the room, excited to tell her friends the news. She quickly found them sitting at a bench, waiting with worry. Colin was the first to spot her and hopped off of the bench, running up to the eight-year-old.

"So, how're they doing?" he asked. He then examined Lisa's face. "Well, judging by that expression, everyone's gonna be okay!"

"Oh, everyone's okay," Lisa replied, "but I've got better news!"

"What's up, Lis?" asked Ronaldo.

"Ms. Marge asked if she can adopt me and my siblings!"

"What?!" Charlie exclaimed. "No way!"

"Oh, yes way, Charlie. Ms. Marge has asked me and Bart, and we said yes, and our foster parents already agreed on the decision! After a little paperwork, you'll be looking at Lisa Bouvier!"

"That's great, Lis!" replied Colin. "We're all happy for you."

Then, another question filled Lisa's mind.

"Wait," she said, "how about you guys? Your parents have all been arrested. What'll happen to you guys?"

"Social Service is gonna take us in," Mary replied. "We heard them say that they've located foster families for us. All of them are...out of Springfield."

"What?!" cried Lisa, feeling the earth crumble around her. "NO! No, it CAN'T be!"

"Yes, I'm afraid it is true, Lis," Patches said.

"No, it CAN'T be true! You're all my friends! All of you, you were the greatest friends I can ever ask for! You can't leave me now!"

"Relax, Lis," said Colin. "It's gonna be all right. We'll all keep in touch with one another!"

"But I can't let you all leave! It's gonna be like moving, all over again, except I'm not moving. _You're_ moving. It's like fate's slowly dragging my friends away whenever I make new ones!" Tears started to well up in Lisa's eyes. "I can't let you leave! Please, we can work something out!"

Colin stared Lisa directly in the eyes. "Lisa, listen to me. Everything's gonna be all right. No matter the distance, we'll always be friends. And like I said, we can still maintain contact with each other. There's no shame in having friends that are in different towns."

"But it's just that, every time I make new friends, they're snatched away from me! And the long distance, what if you guys forget about me?"

"Who would forget a great friend like you, Lis?" Colin smiled widely. "You _saved_ us. _You_ saved us all from our terrible lives. Who in their right mind would forget _that_?"

Lisa wiped her eyes and sniffled. "But while you're gone, who's gonna be my friends? No one else wants to hang out with someone like me."

"Sure. All you gotta do is be yourself, and believe me, there's something out there who will wanna be your friend."

Lisa sniffled again. "Really?"

"Yep."

Just then, four men wearing suits arrived. "Alright, kids," one of them said, "you've seen your friend. Now it's time to go."

Colin nodded and looked at Lisa. "We gotta go. But don't worry, Lisa! We'll see each other again, pretty soon!"

"Bye," was all Lisa could say as the Social Service agents led all of her friends away.

As she watched her friends turn around a corner and disappear from her sights, Lisa immersed herself in thought. Marge is gonna adopt her and her siblings, but her friends are all forced to leave for foster homes that weren't in Springfield, leaving her alone and friendless again. There was always a downside to everything.

* * *

"Spuckler, Mary?" a Social Service agent asked.

"Here," Mary replied.

"Fernandez, Ronaldo?"

"Here," Ronaldo replied.

"O'Sullivan, Colin?"

"Here," Colin replied.

"Borton, Wendell?"

No response. The agent looked around for the pale-skinned boy, but couldn't find him anywhere.

"Hey, where's Wendell Borton?"

* * *

**A/N:** Lisa can't seem to catch a break, can't she? And where, oh where is Wendell?

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**SideshowJazz1 [Hopefully this was soon enough for you.]**_

_**Galaxina-the-Seedrian**_

_**Sideshow Cellophane 26 [There'll be no scene where Marge recognizes that Artie isn't all the glamour boy she hoped he'd be, but there WILL be a romantic scene between Homer and Marge, I'll guarantee that.]**_

_**Narfy [Well, it looks like everyone's okay!]**_

_**Bright101Eyes [I'm glad you're enjoying this!]**_

_**Comicbookguy666**_

_**Guest reviewer**_

_**I love Neville [Hey, you caught up! That's excellent! And yes, I always thank everyone who reviews my stories. Consider it a trademark of mine. After all, people need to be rewarded for sending such nice reviews!]**_

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	20. Admitting Love in a Patient Room

**A/N:** Hey, everyone! Sorry for the long wait, but my family's been busy with winter break. Plus, school's started again for me. XO

Before I begin, I wanna announce the cancellation of "Life of an Assassin". I know, yet another disappointing cancellation from TheCartoonFanatic01. I know that I can always keep the story up there anyway, but I have slight obsessive-compulsive disorder, and that involves deleting any stories that I find myself unable to finish or dissatisfied with. Fortunately, it was the former reason that led to this decision. Why? Well, I have another story in the making. It's not "Simpsons", but reviewers of mine have been greatly anticipating it. Keeping "Life of an Assassin" on-board would put some more stress in my career here, so yeah, it had to go. Again, my apologies. You're all free to flame me in my reviews because of that. I know how much you liked the fic, even if it was just two chapters, and I deserve what's coming to me.

Besides, be glad I didn't delete this fic as well. I'd only quit on this story when the apocalypse happens. *glares at the Mayans and smirks*

Alright, without any further ado, ENJOY!

* * *

Never before had Marge smiled any wider. Just a few minutes ago, she proclaimed that she will be adopting the Thompson children, and they instantly and unanimously voiced their approval of her decision. Soon, she will have to call those three children her son and daughters, and they won't have to suffer from any abuse from their mother anymore. She would be the perfect mother for them. It was like a dream come true for the schoolteacher.

Now lying alone on her hospital bed, alongside Homer and the still-unconscious Eliza, Marge sighed dreamily.

"I'm very glad for you, Marge."

Marge glanced to her side at Homer, who was smiling at her from his bed.

"Thanks, Homer," she replied, "but why?"

"You finally adopted those three kids before anything bad could happen to them. And those kids haven't asked for a better mother than you."

Marge smiled and said, "Thanks, Homer. That's really sweet of you."

Homer nodded at her as a response, and then he looked out of the hospital window, which was currently letting in the fresh, uninterrupted afternoon sunlight. Marge instantly noticed the florid blush appear on the assistant groundskeeper's cheeks. Then, she heard a sigh that escaped his mouth.

She frowned. For some reason, that sigh sounded..._sad_... "Is...something wrong, Homer?" she asked.

"Huh?" Homer looked back at her, the blush disappearing. "No, nothing wrong!"

Marge raised an eyebrow, but said, "Okay..."

An awkward silence hung over the two. Finally, Homer broke it, asking, "Marge? Do you still hate me?"

"Hate you?" repeated Marge. "Hate you for what?"

"For calling Artie a conceited brat?"

"Oh, that." Marge sighed, disapprovingly recalling the furious argument the two had the last time they were in the hospital, the very same hospital. She then smiled warmly. "Homer, I forgive everything that you ever said about him. I mean, I still don't agree with what you said, but I have my reasons for forgiving you."

"Really?" Homer's interest was piqued, and the blush was back. "What are those reasons?"

"You came for me when I tried to save Lisa and Bart. You risked life and limb to ensure that I was safe, and that the children were safe too. You took two bullets and nearly died, just because you cared. I mean, I really don't think Artie would've done the same for me, or anyone else for that matter. I would understand that, but I would also be amazed at what courage and selflessness you displayed today. And I wanna thank you for that, Homer."

Homer chuckled sheepishly. "Oh, don't mention it. I mean, there's NO way I'm gonna let you die at the hands of some maniac. After all, I love yooouuuuurrrrr..." Homer suddenly looked alarmed, as if he were struggling to pick the right words, and Marge noticed that. Finally, he completed, "...blue hair!"

"Oh!" Marge exclaimed, surprised by this kind of answer, but shrugged it off. "Thanks. No one's ever said that to me before. Not even Artie."

"Really? How come? It's the most beautiful thing about you!"

Now it was Marge's turn to blush. "Gee, you think so?"

"Of course! That and your lovely hazel eyes. And your warm smile. And your gentle voice and the way you care for everyone you see and your nice laugh and-" Homer noticed the look on Marge's face, which indicated to him that he was devolving into a rant, so he just completed, "practically _everything_ about you! Y-You're like, uh, an angel sent by God or something!"

Marge's face would've practically turned red.

"You...You really think that about me?"

Homer's face was the same shade of red as Marge's. "Um...y-_yes_... For a while now."

"How long?"

He gulped nervously, but was honest in his response. "Ever since I first got the job at Springfield Elementary." Homer then laughed as a memory came to him. "I still remember that day like it was yesterday. I was cleaning the staircase after some kid puked on it, and I slipped on some of that puke, and I fell an entire story down. Man, was that painful! And unfortunately, that kid was still puking at the bottom, and I landed smack-straight into the pool.

"Then, when I looked up, I saw a helping hand. _Your_ helping hand."

Marge giggled. "Oh yes, I remember that time as well. All of the kids were laughing at you, and even the teachers that were nearby, but I was the only one who didn't laugh, and the only one who helped you up."

"I noticed that too, Marge," Homer replied, more serious and confident this time. "And ever since I saw the face of my savior, I...I...words can't even describe how I felt. I mean, you were the first person in a while to show compassion towards me. The last time a person was that nice to me was when my mom told me I was sweet enough when she helped me pack my cereal with all of the sugar in a bag. That...that was the day before she left..."

"Oh, Homer, I'm so sorry..."

Homer sniffled and wiped his nose, then continued. "Yeah, well anyway, I had my eye on you ever since. And I don't mean that like I was stalking you, but every time I saw you, I felt all warm inside. I felt better about myself, every time. And I-" But then, he stopped.

"You what?" Marge asked, curious to hear more.

"Nothing."

"No, you were about to say something else. What was it?"

"It's a secret!"

Marge frowned, knowing that Homer wasn't going to tell her. "Okay."

Another awkward silence filled the room. Finally, after a few minutes...

"I love you, Marge Bouvier."

Marge's eyes widened, and she looked back at Homer, who was staring back at her with the softest of eyes.

"Ever since I first met you, I've always had a crush on you."

Marge blinked as her jaw dropped open. "You...You..."

Homer sighed and looked out of the window. "But it's okay if you don't have to like me back. Just thought you should know. After all, you've got good ol' Artie."

"Not anymore."

The assistant groundskeeper's eyes widened and he looked back at Marge. "What?" he asked.

"Now that I think of it, I believe I have a confession of my own. Remember that field trip to the golf course?"

Homer nodded, recalling that memory as well. "Yeah. Willie and I had to come along because the kid that was barfing-"

"Wendell Borton," Marge corrected.

"Yeah, Wendell Borton, that's right. Anyway, he was coming along. Why?" However, he was already expecting the answer.

"Well, I remember wanting to help Mary Spuckler with golfing by teaching her how to do it. But I didn't have as much luck in golfing as she did. Then, _you_ came along. It was you taught me and Mary how to golf."

"But I didn't know to golf as much as you did," admitted Homer.

"I know. But as the time passed, we got better at it, and we had a fun time, winning games together. I felt a really close bond between us, and I realized that Artie, my crush at work, wouldn't have the same emotional capacity to do the same for me. I guess I had a crush on you as well, though I was not as aware of it as you were with your crush on me."

"Are...Are you saying-" Homer began.

"I love you too, Homer," completed Marge, smiling.

A third awkward silence came over them.

Then, Homer exclaimed, "WHOO-HOO!"

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, yeah, another short chapter. But at least I'm back, right? And Homer and Marge got together, that's something!

I'd like to thank the following for reviewing:

_**SideshowJazz1 [Yeah, the update took longer than expected. Stupid, stupid me! But thanks for being my 100th reviewer!]**_

_**Galaxina-the-Seedrian [You'll find out where Wendell is in the next chapter, so stay tuned!]**_

_**I love Neville [The name of the story is "Midsummer Tragedy", just so you know.]**_

_**Sideshow Cellophane 26 [Yeah, that's a good-enough accomplishment. And no, Wendell's dad is dead; he got shot, remember?]**_

_**Narfy [Hope you've found disk one during the winter break.]**_

_**King Kierain [I think a scene like that MIGHT suffice in this fic... **_**;D_]_**

Well, hope you enjoyed this short but eventful return by me! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	21. Getting a New Friend

**A/N:** Hey, guys! Sorry for the slightly long wait. School's been hell on me, especially... *shudders with disdain* ..._Chemistry_...

Anyway, ENJOY!

* * *

Simultaneous to the blossoming of romance that occurred between Marge and Homer, Lisa was sitting on a bench in the food court, deeply immersed in her thoughts. She couldn't believe that her friends had to go away to other towns, just when things were actually going so well in her life for once. Now, she was left alone and friendless, having to undergo the difficult process of climbing up the social ladder, once again.

Lisa sighed and stared off at the food court that was nearby, which was currently occupied by dozens of patients and visitors. Little did she know it, but she was in the same position as Eliza, sitting at the same side of that same bench, brooding about their problems, reaching a climactic event that could define the rest of their lives. Had the eight-year-old recognized it sometime in the future, she would've found it ironic.

"Excuse me, is someone sitting beside you?" a voice asked. Lisa looked to her side and saw, to her surprise, her classmate, Allison Taylor. Adding to her surprise was the fact that Allison didn't regard Lisa with contempt; in fact, there was some sort of gentle kindness in her face. Unsure of whether or not it was a trap from the redhead, Lisa reluctantly shook her head, and the second grader partook the signal, sitting down next to her. A cloud of awkward silence fell upon the both of them, and the two girls neglected to speak to one another for a few minutes.

Finally, Lisa decided to break the tension and asked, "Okay, Allison, what's the catch?"

"What do you mean?" Allison replied.

"You never liked me, so whatever it is you have planned, then by all means, go on ahead. I don't feel like defending myself right now."

"I don't plan to do anything to you, Lisa."

Lisa scoffed and leaned back on the bench, facing away from Allison. "Yeah, right," she replied.

Silence reigned again, and then, Allison said, "Look, Lisa, I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you."

"You're sorry?" Lisa asked, though she said it bitterly, obviously not believing a word the redhead said. "What makes you think I'll accept your apology? You hated me the moment you first saw me." A question suddenly dawned onto her, and she raised an eyebrow. "Why do you even _hate_ me?"

Allison sighed heavily and explained, "You know, before you came here, Lisa, _I_ was the smartest in the classroom. I got the highest grades, did all of the best projects, won all of the school awards, and correctly answered all of the questions given to me. I had earned the respect and generosity of Ms. Marge. Then you came along and exhibited capabilities even I couldn't achieve. And now, Ms. Marge treats you like you were her daughter. I...I was _jealous_...

"You see, unlike you, _my_ mom loved me. She taught me to be the best at what I do, and that even if I lost, I was still a winner, because taking a loss so hard is the true defeat. I looked up to my mom, and whenever I had a dilemma, she was always there to cook up a great solution. Then, all of that ended with a car crash..." Allison trailed off, her soft eyes now focusing at an empty wall. At this point, remorse welled up inside Lisa.

"Oh, Allison, I'm sorry..." she replied. "And you now look up to Ma- I mean, Ms. Marge as your mother."

"Yes. She was now the person to be there for me whenever I had a problem, for my dad was always busy at work. But now, you practically took her away from me. I hated you for that, and I still would've had I not learned of your problems with your own mother. You're just like me, Lisa; your mother technically was never there, and you needed a mother figure to look up to. Ms. Marge fulfilled that position. ...For that, I am sorry I treated you the way I did. I was being selfish."

"No, you weren't being selfish." Lisa edged closer to Allison so she can look into her face more clearly. Allison looked back into Lisa's serious eyes. "Look, I forgive you, Allison. I understand now why you acted that way to me."

"You do?" she asked.

Lisa nodded, and then embraced Allison in a tight hug. Once they broke apart, Lisa then asked, "You know, Allison, we seem to have a lot in common. We're smart, we win all the school awards, we're practically teacher's pets..."

Allison seemed to be thinking the same thing and smiled. "Hey, d'you think we can be friends?"

Lisa smiled back. "Only if we're the best."

The two girls hugged again.

* * *

As Lisa and Allison hugged, Wendell watched from afar. He smiled proudly and began to recall the events that occurred during the past few minutes...

* * *

**_Ten minutes earlier..._**

Wendell was the only one who didn't speak the entire time when Lisa first announced that Marge and Homer were going to survive their injuries and that Marge was planning on adopting her and her siblings, and then when she protested against his and the others' relocation to foster families outside of Springfield. When he heard Lisa admit that she would once again have no friends, it suddenly struck a chord in his memory. So, being the quiet, overlooked person he is, he managed to slink away unnoticed and traveled to the food court, where he knew he'd find her.

It didn't take long for him to find the person he was looking for, and he walked up to her as she silently watched a young girl laugh with her mother.

"Hey, Allie," Wendell greeted.

Allison looked up at him. "Oh, hey Wendell," she replied solemnly. "Sorry about your dad."

"Don't apologize, especially about _him_. That bastard-" He ignored the flinch Allison exhibited. "-deserved it. And now, I'm gonna be placed in a foster family."

"Good for you!" Allison exclaimed, smiling and hugging him. "Good things are now ahead of you, Wendell. I told you so!"

"Yeah, except that this foster family's out of Springfield."

Allison's eyes widened with shock. "What?! No way! You can't possibly be leaving Springfield!"

"Sorry, but I am, Allie. Social Services demand it."

"You can't leave, Wendell! You're my only friend!"

Wendell crossed his arms. "Oh, really? What about _Janey and her fantastic friends_?" He put special emphasis on the last words to show his hatred of them.

"They're not my true friends, but _you're_ the only person I can call my true friend."

"Really?"

"Yeah! And you can't leave now! Without you, I'd be nothing!"

"Maybe so, but I know someone who can solve this problem of yours."

"Who?" asked Allison.

"You know her. Lisa Thompson."

"Her?" It was Allison's turn to show contempt. "She can't solve anything. She's _so_ caught up in finishing tests within fifteen seconds and impressing Ms. Marge and-"

"Listen, I know you're jealous. But Lisa needs a friend she can relate to, and you need a friend you can relate to. The both of you can solve each other's problems." Wendell looked into Allison's eyes seriously. "It's okay, Allie. I'll be okay without you. After all-"

He reached into his pocket and took out a photo of a beautiful, kindly woman with pale-white hair, carrying an infant Wendell and smiling widely.

"-I have what I need now."

Allison smiled happily, tears welling up in her eyes. "You got a picture of your mother..."

"Yep. Now I finally know what she looks like, and believe me, she was more beautiful than I thought she would be." He put the photo back into his pocket and looked at Allison again. "Listen Allison, do all you want; I'm not gonna force you. But just remember this, what would your mom say if she saw you behaving this way?"

The redheaded girl opened her mouth to respond, but then closed it, obviously not finding a sufficient answer. Wendell flashed a small smile and hugged his friend again, for what he believed could be the last time until a while.

"Goodbye, Allison," he said. "Hope you find happiness wherever you go."

And with that, he ran off, leaving a silent, unresponsive Allison in his wake.

* * *

_**Present day**_

Wendell took out the photo of his mother again and looked at it. Smiling, he then put it back into his pocket, just as he heard a voice call out his name.

"Wendell! Wendell Borton!" The pale-skinned boy turned around to see two tall Social Services agents running up to him, panting, having obviously ran around the large hospital for a while. "My goodness, we were worried about you! What in God's name were you doing, running off like that?"

"Just doing some unfinished business," Wendell merely replied. He took one last look at the embracing Lisa and Allison as he followed the Social Services agents.

* * *

In their room, Marge and Homer had just finished admitting their love to one another and were now smiling at one another when they heard another bed creak. They had been so immersed in the moment that they had forgotten about their other roommate. The two watched as Eliza sat up on her bed, hastily removing the wires connecting her to the heart-monitor device as if they were dangerous insects.

"Oh, you're awake," Marge said.

"I've been awake for a while," replied Eliza, so quietly that Marge and Homer could barely hear her.

"Oh. So...you heard the news I broke about me adopting Lisa, Bart, and Maggie."

"All of it." A hollow, lifeless laugh escaped from Eliza's mouth, and she stared out of the window as the sun continued to illuminate the rooftops of Springfield. It was a wonderful, beautiful view. "Marge, you're everything they wanted their mother to be. ...Everything _she_ wanted her mother to be. ...And I'm glad you will be there for them now. _So_ glad..." She smiled sadly at Marge. "You take good care of them now. Be their mother."

Marge and Homer's eyes widened in horror the moment the syringe needle glinted in the sunlight.

* * *

**A/N:** Now Lisa's got a new friend in replacement of all her other friends! Maybe not the best-looking scenario, but at least she's now happy again! Now this leaves one more conflict to be resolved, and pretty soon, this story's done! In fact, there's just two, maybe three chapters to go before you say 'sayonara' to this wonderful fic! I'm pretty sure you guys know what this last conflict is...

I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**SideshowJazz1 [I'll review that story soon, but I'm not making any promises. And thanks for the review! **_**:D_]_**

**_Galaxina-the-Seedrian [Just because they already have children doesn't mean they can't have more... _;)_]_**

**_Comicbookguy666 [I'm glad you enjoyed that story! I came up with that idea in just under two minutes.]_**

**_Narfy [Great! I'm glad you loved how I wrote that conversation between Homer and Marge! I thought it felt kinda filler-ish, but your praise always makes everything better, as does the praise of all the other reviewers! And I shall have fun writing, as usual.]_**

**_Da Darkest Knight [Well, looks like Wendell actually did something good!]_**

**_Sideshow Cellophane 26 [30 something, eh? I think that by that time aliens will have wiped us out. And these aliens will have to be left to deal with that apocalypse themselves. _XD _YAY, I pulled off a classic Homer! And now your concerns about Wendell have been concluded. P.S.: Tried out your suggestion with Death. Man, was it fun pissing him off! _XD_]_**

**_I love Neville [WHOO-HOO! You reviewed!]_**

Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	22. Final Amends

**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait, everyone. Life catches up with me in the stupidest of ways. Well, on another subject, this here will be the second-to-last chapter of the story, and this amazing fic will be over soon! ENJOY!

* * *

"ELIZA!" Marge screamed, eyeing the trembling needle warily. "Don't do it!"

"Sorry, Marge," replied Eliza, "but I can't go on like this, not anymore. It's all too much for me. You now have everything: three great children, a boyfriend, a great life... And as for me, I've got _nothing_. I used to have a life, but I've wasted it, and I am past the point of redemption here. ...You remind me of myself, a long time ago. ...Don't make the same mistakes as I did, Marge. You're not worth it."

"But you're not worth dying, Eliza. Please, put the needle down, and we'll talk about it."

Eliza frowned, the needle growing dangerously closer to her arm. "No, no talk. No more talk. It doesn't help."

"That's because you don't let talking help you! Please Eliza, don't do this! Look, I know we haven't seen eye-to-eye with each other, but let me help you. Eliza, I know you don't wanna let your children go, but y-"

Eliza cut Marge off suddenly. "No, I'm completely fine with letting go of the children. I was never a mother to them. I was never really _their_ mother. They deserve better than the crap I threw at 'em. They deserve you."

Just then, Marge asked the question she had been holding back for so long.

"Why did you do what you did to Lisa, Bart, and Maggie? You obviously love them still. What made you do it?"

Eliza's skin paled, and she replied grimly, "It's none of your business."

"Why, Eliza?" demanded Marge. "Why did you destroy their innocence if you were so concerned for their well-being in the first place? Tell me!"

Eliza still didn't respond, and Marge and Homer noticed the tears welling up in her eyes. Just then, Homer spoke up.

"I think I know what's going on."

Eliza's eyes widened with surprise. "Y-You _do_?" she asked.

"Yeah," the assistant groundskeeper replied. "You know, Eliza, I came from a situation similar to yours. My mom left me when I was little, and for most of my life, I was raised by my father, who really didn't contribute to his role of taking care of me like any other father should. He neglected me most of the time. This neglect displayed by your only parent dictates the rest of your life. For a while, I was scared of love, for I feared that the person who loved me would love me like my mom did."

"NO, THAT IS **NOT** WHAT HAPPENED TO ME!" Eliza screeched. "D'YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?! MY MOM HIT ME SO MUCH! THERE, YA HAPPY NOW?!"

It was silent for a moment, then Homer asked, "What about your dad?"

"There was no dad! Just a bunch of crappy ex-boyfriends who...who..." Eliza couldn't hold back the tears anymore, and she started to sob hysterically.

Marge's eyes widened as she realized what Eliza's real problem was. "Eliza, it's okay," she said. "I understand now, I understand everything. But you must let go of the past, because you're letting it win, and it's affecting your children. Just let go-"

"NO! IT'S TOO MUCH, AND I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" She raised the needle and then spoke calmly. "But I can find peace now. Goodbye, Marge, Homer. Tell the children that I am truly sorry."

Just then, the door swung open, and Dr. Nick entered the room.

"Hi, everybody!" he greeted. Nick then spotted the needle Eliza was still clutching, but smiled optimistically. "Planning on killing yourself, eh? Well, you're wasting your time. That needle's filled with distilled water, and it's in a small quantity. Some hemolysis will result, but it won't be fatal."

Eliza looked at the needle in shock, then back at Dr. Nick. Then, she sighed with defeat and dropped the needle, which fell to the ground with a small clatter. She then leaned back on her bed, sighing heavily. Marge frowned with concern.

"Eliza," she said, "when I first met you, I thought you were just an emotionless, sadistic monster who didn't give a crap about the children. But now that I heard of your troubled childhood, I now have something to say: I forgive you."

Eliza's eyes widened again. "What? You do?"

"Yes. I don't condone what you did to Lisa, Bart, and Maggie, but I understand why you did it. Memories of your past, which you kept bottled up within you without telling anyone of it, were dictating your actions, and you took your trauma out on the children by doing the same thing your mother did to you. But don't you think that by doing the same thing to your children will make you just like your mother?"

"I've realized that a few days ago," replied Eliza, "and for that, I regret what I did."

"Then why don't you tell the children that?"

"I tried to, but they just shoved me away."

"Then I can help you with that," Marge replied.

"So will I," added Homer.

Eliza just looked at them reluctantly.

* * *

Several minutes later, Lisa and Bart arrived at the room, having been called over there by hospital staff. They were quickly followed by the Dodd family; Mrs. Dodd was carrying Maggie in her arms. All three children looked happy and contented.

"What's up, guys?" asked Bart.

"Your mom has something to tell you," Marge replied, looking at Eliza. However, Lisa, Bart, and even Maggie frowned bitterly and with disapproval.

"She's not our mom," Bart spat angrily, crossing his arms and looking away from Eliza.

"Kids," Homer said, a bit sternly, "whether she's your mother to your eyes or not, you will listen to what she has to say to you all. Don't worry, we'll be there to back you up if she insults you again."

"No way, José," replied Bart.

However, Lisa said, "Okay."

"What?" Bart cried. "Lis, she's just gonna insult us again, call us crap or something. Don't fall for it! She probably tricked Mom or something."

"Bart," Marge said suddenly, "as your new mom, I am telling you to go up to your old mom and listen to her!" For once in her life, the blue-haired teacher had actually explicitly scolded a child, but she didn't regret it the slightest.

Fortunately, Bart was intimidated by this and, with reluctance, nodded obediently. Mrs. Dodd set Maggie down to the floor, and Bart took her by one hand, and Lisa took the other, and the three Thompson children slowly walked over to Eliza's bedside. Their biological mother, looking quite unkempt, flashed a small smile, but it was met with uncertain, reluctant expressions on her children's faces. Lisa, Bart, and Maggie looked over quite nervously at Marge and Homer, both of whom nodded back at them reassuringly, and then the three finally walked up to Eliza's bedside.

"Um...hey..." Lisa said.

"Hey yourself," replied Eliza.

"Uh...d'you have something to say to us?"

"Yeah."

An awkward silence fell upon the hospital room. The only thing that could be heard was the faint noises of cars passing by the hospital outside.

"Eliza, go on," Marge said reassuringly.

Eliza sighed, and then began. "Children, for the past six years, I've treated you like dirt, and you never knew why."

"We all know why," said Bart bitterly. "You were jealous of Lisa-"

"That's not all," interrupted Eliza. "Believe me, children, this story's not for the faint of heart. ...You know, when I was around your age, Lisa, I never really had a father, for he was out of the picture before I was even born. All I had was a mother, who...who..." She took a deep breath and continued. "...hit me, all of the time. She'd beat me so hard that sometimes I'd go unconscious. She'd always wake me up by kicking me, and whenever I did something wrong, she'd lock me in a cellar for days, and there was barely any food and drinks to go around in there. I had to...improvise to survive.

"And then she had these boyfriends. They did..._stuff_ to me. Stuff that still haunts me to this very day. My mom knew about it, but she didn't get a crap about what happened to me. She even took pleasure at what her boyfriends did to me.

"Finally, there was one boyfriend who cared. He saved me for that nightmare I call my childhood. I was adopted by a caring and loving family, but that didn't alleviate me of my memories of that horrible past of mine. I always had terrible nightmares, I was afraid of disappointing adults, and I wasn't very social, for I felt I'd be taken advantage of. As a result, I became a loner towards the students, though I gained the friendship of teachers through my good grades and hard work in class.

"Then I met your father. He was a new student at my high school at the time, and he was also socially inept. He was desperate for a friend, but everyone bullied him extensively, and I pitied him, so I started hanging out with him. One thing led to another, and finally, Bart came along.

"Your arrival was unplanned, Bart. We were planning to give you away, but the two of us fell in love with you at first sight, so we just dropped out of school and Brad started working jobs to support us. Then, your dad and I agreed to give a sibling for you, Bart, and Lisa came into the scene. For a while, we were the perfect family. I couldn't have asked for a life better than mine. I thought my memories of my childhood would just be surreal projections.

"But then, you became two years old, Lisa, and you started showing signs of intelligence that was more developed than any other two-year-old. You were just like me, maybe even better. Memories of my mom accompanied the jealousy that surged within me, and then your abuse began.

"I treated you most unforgivably, and for that, I am truly sorry for what I did. You three kids have bright futures ahead of you, and I nearly ruined them. Your innocence is no longer there, all because of jealousy that evolved into hatred. I destroyed your childhoods by becoming the last person I wanted to be: my own mother. Look, I understand if you children don't forgive me for what I did. But your abuse at my hands was just because of my similar childhood. I just wanted you to know that I always loved you, and I still do. Just know that."

Once again, it was silent. Marge, Homer, and the Dodds waited with held breaths for a response.

Finally, Lisa said, quite softly, "I forgive you..._Mom_."

Eliza's eyes widened, and she smiled. She then glanced at Maggie, who seemed to register what was going on, and smiled a small smile. Finally, Eliza, Lisa, and Maggie glanced at Bart, who was still glaring at the former with contempt.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, _Eliza_!" he spat as he struggled to hold back tears. "You made my life, and those of my sisters, miserable for as long as I remember! You're damn right I won't forgive you for what you did!"

However, Lisa could see through Bart's exterior, and she said, "Bart, the tough-guy act's over."

Quite suddenly, Bart broke down and happily exclaimed, "OH, MOM!" The ten-year-old then embraced Eliza as tightly as he could, followed by Lisa, and then Maggie. All four Thompsons started crying in a mixture of happiness and grief, and even the others present in the room shed some small tears.

After a while, the four broke apart and Eliza said, "Now, you go back to your real mom. Go on, it's okay." She then smiled a wide smile, and Lisa felt the happiness swell up inside her; this was the first time in so long that she saw Eliza this happy. It really made their facial similarities top-notch.

Lisa and Bart nodded back at Eliza with understanding, and they supported Maggie as all three walked back to Marge's bedside, where they hugged the schoolteacher, the person that had cared for them the most ever since they arrived in Springfield, as hard as they could.

"Thanks for everything, Mom," Lisa said, feeling extremely comfortable with addressing Marge by that name. "You saved us."

"No, it should be me who's thanking you, Lisa," replied Marge. "You and your siblings. You helped me discover a higher calling to my life."

Lisa, Bart, and Maggie all smiled, and then they embraced Marge once again, this time in a longer, more tighter hug. Eliza, Homer, and the Dodds all smiled at the sight.

Just then, Lisa said, "I wish Dad were here to see this."

"Me too," replied Bart. "He'd be so happy for us."

"Well, just wait till you hear what news I have for you!" exclaimed Homer optimistically, smiling.

Outside of the hospital room and into the hallway, people nearby could hear Lisa and Bart's shouts of joy and happiness.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, this is it. Just one more chapter! I can't believe it's all come down to this. It feels like such a long time since I first published this fic, and I can't believe I'm gonna have to say my farewells to it.

Well, I'd like to thank those who reviewed:

_**SideshowJazz1 [Here's the update you wanted!]**_

_**Galaxina-the-Seedrian**_

_**Sideshow Cellophane 26 [Thanks for the review! And I tried the grape juice thing you described. It was fun!]**_

_**Narfy [Well, I'm glad I surprised you with the end. And Allison does actually like Lisa now.]**_

_**I love Neville**_

Well, hope you enjoyed this sweet penultimate chapter! TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. PEACE!


	23. My Happily Ever After

**A/N:** Here we are, folks, the final chapter of "The Thompsons"! Now, before we can begin with the dramatic conclusion, I'd just like to do what my fellow reviewer Narfy did to her second-to-last story on this site and open this chapter up with a SUPER-LONG Author's Note that explains this story's history, my general opinion of it, and some random trivia about it. It would mean a lot to me if you all read this, for it describes all of the hard work that was put into making this story, information that does NOT deserve to be shunned away.

Anyway, first thing's first, my personal and professional opinion of the story. Well, since this story's made it all the way to the end, it's obvious that I was inspired and confident enough in its survival. There were a couple of things I wasn't really proud of, though. First of all, I found Lisa, Bart, and Maggie finally running away from Eliza in Chapter 7 to be a bit too sudden for my liking. I was planning to spend a few more chapters expanding on the alternate universe by giving some more emphasis on Marge and Homer's personal lives. If that happened, I would've shown, for Marge, some scenes highlighting more of the personality of the ever-infamous Artie Ziff, and probably a brand-new introductory scene for Clancy and Jacqueline Bouvier. For Homer, I would've seized this chance to introduce the AU's of Abraham, Moe, Lenny, Carl, and Barney. But this story was purely told from Lisa's viewpoint, and partially Bart's, which was my number-one intention for the story, so these scenes were eventually viewed as superfluous and I decided to drop them. But now that I look back at Chapter 7, I found the scenes to be introduced too quickly. Dropping the aforementioned scenes was a decision I mostly didn't regret, but then again, I also find Chapter 7's execution to be too quick.

Also, I find a few of the chapters to be too filler-ish for me, a bunch of them being too short. But I'm not gonna do anything about it, for merging chapters together might cause a bit of a mess for reviewing and such and I've decided to leave things as it is. So, on the most part, I am very proud of this story, despite its flaws.

Next is how this story came to be. It has a number of inspirations, quite frankly. The primary source of inspiration was Narfy's "The Way We Shouldn't Be", another AU story that I recommend to all of you Homer/Marge fans. When it first came out, I wasn't a member, and I was masquerading as an anonymous reviewer. I didn't have the best of manners back then, and I was an overall pain in the ass for Narfy and her friends. I learned my lesson the hard way when Narfy posted a message to me in her Author's Note, slamming me for my rude behavior. Just like a lion with a lion-tamer, I was humbled and I behaved for the rest of the story. (I thank you for going all-out on me, Narfy, otherwise I probably wouldn't be here.) If you wish to be amused, feel free to read the end of Chapter 3 of "The Way We Shouldn't Be"; the message is still there. I'm cool with it now. Not sure about Narfy, though, but at least it'll give her story some more views! XD So anyway, that story was the first and foremost reason I aimed for writing an AU of my own. I give you my thanks Narfy, you are an inspiration to me in more ways than one.

Another inspiration came in the form of a scene in the Season 20 episode "Dangerous Curves". Bart was driving a guide car, I think it was, and Lisa was sitting in the passenger seat, while Maggie was in the back. Bart and Lisa were arguing back and forth, and when Maggie woke up, Lisa yelled at Bart for "waking the baby", and Bart replied that they "should've left her with your mother". Trust me, the dialogue's genuine, completely extracted from the episode. If you're not sure at what I'm getting at, I'll just get to the point: it was a bit of a parody in which Bart and Lisa were a bickering couple and Maggie was supposed to be their newborn baby. Yeah, that's right, that's what the scene was supposed to point at. I'm pretty sure the scene was just supposed to be a parody and NOTHING MORE... *clears throat* Anyway, my creative mind saw a story behind that scene.

Initially, this story was actually supposed to be a LOT more closer to the original scene (Bart and Lisa being the bickering couple, and Maggie being the child caught in it all; I guess I was affected by that scene...), but it wasn't long before I felt that the idea wouldn't work, so I revised the story multiple times. One idea involved the Simpson family still being intact, with no Eliza or Brad, but the family would still move to Springfield. Another idea involved just Bart raising Maggie alone, with the others being somehow out of the picture (come to think of it, that idea _doesn't_ sound bad... ;) ;) ;) ...). But I really wanted something unique, something that I wouldn't give up on like my other "Simpsons" stories. Then, just when I was about to give up, I looked at a photo of the Simpson family. A sudden thought occurred to me: _"Huh, Bart, Lisa, and Maggie don't resemble Homer and Marge, yet there are relatives in the extended family that look just like them." _I know that being one's son or daughter doesn't mean you have to look exactly like the parent, but I decided to draw off on that thought, nevertheless. I kept thinking about it, wondering what to do exactly, and I thought jokingly, _"Homer and Marge must've adopted the kids or something."_ And...ta-da! I had my premise!

Constructing the alternate universe and its portrayal of our favorite characters was easy. Finding the conflict was the, well, _conflict _of mine. Then, I decided to read "Lisa Fitzgerald", another favorite "Simpsons" fic of mine, considered by Simpsons fans to be one of few fics at the top of the figurative mountain of its kind. It used to be on this site, but it suddenly got deleted for unknown reasons. However, you can still find it at a website whose members are no longer active, _Simpsons Realities_, which seems to focus on grounding the moral corner that constituted the show's golden age. If you wanna read the story, go to that site and find the fanfiction folder; it's there, along with three other fics also considered to be the best of Simpson fanfiction. I must warn you, though, be prepared; "Lisa Fitzgerald" is where I got the idea of Eliza abusing Lisa, Bart, and Maggie, and the abuse depicted in "Lisa Fitzgerald" is more physical than psychological, and more graphic. Don't eat your food just before reading.

Finally, some random trivia for the story. In an early version of the story, there was a cameo from Lisa, Bart, and Maggie's older sibling, who was supposed to be a teenager who ran away from the abuse but maintained contact with his siblings, constantly pressuring them to run away with him. His cameo would've been a setting point for why Lisa wouldn't leave her parents, but it obviously wouldn't work with Bart and the idea was deemed useless for the story, plus I wanted the AU to be as faithful to the original show as possible, so the idea was dropped. Also, I was planning for Homer to be Brad's coworker at the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant, but I wanted Homer to have a closer connection to Lisa, Bart, and Maggie, so his role was switched to assistant groundskeeper, which was mostly due to a random moment when I imagined Homer in janitor's clothing, lol.

Alright, enough rambling! Let's get on with the final show. ENJOY!

**P.S.:** I encourage you readers to check out LittleGreenPen's stories and Third Kind's first "Simpsons" fic "Meltdown"; they're all awesome! Also, I recommend you join Generation Yellow; it's a "Simpsons" forum that is now hanging for dear life by a few threads (literally) and we could use new members!

* * *

A week following Eliza's words of apology passed by slowly, and very soon, Dr. Nick declared Marge and Homer's injuries to have properly healed and they were released from the hospital. Afterwards, Lisa, Bart, and Maggie went back to living with the Dodds for a couple more weeks while the adoption papers were being sorted out. And finally, after a long, almost infinite wait full of several complicated legal processes, the children's wishes were granted when Marge was given the okay to adopt the three Thompson children. The three viewed that fateful day as the best day of their lives. Even Maggie, who barely had any idea what was going on, relished in the happy moment. Lisa and Bart were quick to abandon their Thompson heritage and accept the title of Bouvier, no matter how much attention the surname would draw from jeering bullies.

Simultaneous to the joyous occasion, Eliza was also cleared to be released from the hospital, and despite her reasons, she was charged with violating the conditions of her house arrest in addition to the child abuse and assault charges. The trial was held the following summer, and Lisa, Bart, and Marge testified against her quite relentlessly, never sparing a single detail. It was quick, and in a week or two's notice, Eliza Thompson was found guilty of all charges and sentenced to 50 years in prison with the possibility of parole, along with therapy for her suicidal thoughts and tendencies, which had now become a problem. Eliza accepted the terms of her sentence without reluctance, and Lisa, Bart, and Maggie would go on to visit her every chance they got.

Though Colin, Wendell, the Spucklers, Ronaldo and Pepi, and Patches and Poor Violet were no longer in her company, Lisa found a great friend in Allison. The two ate together during lunch, liked the same things (such as vegetarianism and playing saxophones), helped each other with homework, and protected one another from bullies, including Janey and her friends, who had now regarded them as 'nerds'. Additionally, Lisa maintained contact with Colin and the others, learning that they are all now living happy lives as well, their foster families being caring and generous.

Eventually, after some difficulties in finding a cemetery, Brad was buried in a private cemetery near Lake Springfield during the following summer. Lisa, Bart, Maggie, Marge, Homer, and even Eliza were the only ones who attended the burial, and it was mostly quiet, save for the priest giving his sermons and Lisa, Bart, and Eliza giving their eulogies. Afterwards, the six of them would visit Brad's grave weekly.

The summer went by as quick as it came, and the new school year proved to be eventful for Lisa and Bart. Due to her connection with the only two beloved adults in all of Springfield Elementary, Lisa became popular with the other students, and even Janey and her friends set aside their distaste of Lisa and joined her wide circle of friends. Very soon, Lisa Bouvier became the most well-known name in the school.

Bart also became well-known throughout the school, for his elaborate pranks he victimized the teachers and staff, sans Marge, with. Whenever a new teacher was applied to the school, he or she would be mystically warned of 'the devil in blue shorts'. In addition to those stunts, Bart became famous for disproving the widely-held theory of cooties, as he had kissed Mary in the lips without experiencing symptoms of the dreaded disease afterwards. This prompted numerous romances in the school, though they were all just held on the average childish beliefs, mainly comprising of going out for ice cream and playing games together. Usually, these romances wouldn't last long, and the partners would merely shrug it off and find someone else to partner themselves with.

Speaking of which, Bart maintained frequent contact with Mary, the two having officially becoming a couple. Lisa also found love through her many phone calls to Colin, a love that began when the Irish boy confessed that he missed her and inadvertently let slip his true feelings in the process.

More joy came to the Bouvier household when Homer, who had been dating Marge for the past several months, proposed to her, and she didn't relent for a second in saying yes. The wedding was immediately held on Thanksgiving. Among the many attendants were the students and staff of Springfield Elementary, all of whom collaborated on a large congratulatory banner; Homer's father Abraham, who, for the first time Homer could remember, congratulated his son for the success and gave him a tacky pair of cuff links (comically of a bride and groom pig) to wear for the wedding; Marge's immediate family and extended family; Lisa's friends from the Rat's Nest, who were allowed to vacation to Springfield to visit; and, to everyone's surprise, Eliza.

During the wedding, it became obvious that Marge's parents and sisters disliked Homer from the start. Though Clancy and Jacqueline decided to not express it openly for their daughter's sake, Patty and Selma were unrelenting and called Homer names every chance they got. It eventually sent Homer over the edge and nearly ruined the wedding, but some coercing from their father in the form of threats prompted the Bouvier twins to behave, and the wedding concluded better than expected.

Another person who disapproved of Homer's marriage to Marge was none other than Artie Ziff. During the wedding, he made one last attempt at winning her heart by romantically offering her roses and promising her a life of luxury and wealth in exchange of her hand in marriage, but Marge flat-out declined the proposal. Artie didn't take the rejection too well, and he had to be thrown out of the wedding. To this day, he continues to tempt Marge with his vast fortune and his successful corporation, which he established after resigning from Springfield Elementary in pursuit of higher goals, but his attempts have come to naught.

The moment Homer and Marge kissed, Lisa, Bart, and Maggie inherited the surname of Simpson without any regrets.

They were now the Simpsons.

* * *

"Lisa!" Marge's voice echoed into the vacant cargo load of mover's truck, which Lisa was sitting in. "We're gonna go inside! Come join us!"

"Coming, Mom!" replied Lisa as she put away the two photos she had been looking at. One was taken during her days as a Thompson; in it, everyone was trying their best to smile, but the familial instability was obvious. The other was taken just a couple of days after Marge married Homer; in it, the smiles were completely genuine.

Smiling at the memory of the profound differences, Lisa wandered out of the cargo load. There stood Marge, Bart, and Homer, all smiling at her. In Marge's arms was an equally happy Maggie, who giggled and stretched her arms out at the sight of her older sister. The surroundings were those of a suburban street, which the family had agreed to move to when they concluded that the apartment Principal Skinner purchased for Marge wasn't big enough for the entire family.

"Looking at the photos again?" asked Marge.

"Yeah." Lisa's smile widened. "Thank you, Mom, for everything."

Marge smiled; she always did whenever she heard Lisa or Bart call her Mom. "You're welcome, honey."

"So, kids," Homer said, "ready to go inside your new home, see how it looks?"

"Yeah!" exclaimed Lisa in response.

"You bet, Homer!" Bart cried.

Homer sighed disapprovingly. "For the last time, Bart, it's 'Dad'. _Dad_. I am now your _dad_, so I think it'd be proper to call me _dad_."

"Homer," replied Bart defiantly.

"Dad."

"Homer."

"Dad."

"D...D..." began Bart, looking as if he was struggling to say the word. "D...Da..."

"Yes?" Homer asked hopefully.

"Domer," Bart completed. He then chuckled mischievously, earning a deep breath from Homer.

"Oh, what's next? Losing all of my precious hair?" He lovingly patted his brown hair, which Lisa had noticed for a while was decreasing by amount. Pretty soon he would be going bald, she concluded.

"Come on, everyone!" Marge said happily. "Let's take a look at our home."

The five took a longing glance at their home, marveling at the sight of it. It looked much better up close than in an ad. It was an average-sized, two-story, tan-orange house with a brown roof and a brick chimney at the left. To the right of the house was a small garage, and on top of the roof was a TV antenna. In the backyard, two somewhat tall trees towered over the roof. The letters '742' were attached at the side of the garage door.

Little did the five of them know it, but the moment they would step inside that house, their lives would change forever.

Christmas would come in a couple of weeks, and Homer, having recently been promoted to the rank of groundskeeper after Willie was permanently incapacitated in a mowing accident, wouldn't have received his Christmas bonus, which would have been the family's saving grace as they were struggling to keep up with the strict bills. As a result, he would try to get a job as a shopping mall Santa Claus, but he was underpaid and his next resort would be the dog-racing track. And let's just say that in the wake of a bet that went down under and a disappointed and enraged dog owner, the family grew bigger with the newest addition, a greyhound named Santa's Little Helper.

Many other eventful misadventures would follow after that, and though the family would experience a lot of insuperable hardships and familial turmoil, they would always make it through in the end.

Finally, by the time Lisa and Bart were in high school, Colin, Wendell, Mary and her siblings, Ronaldo and Pepi, and Patches and Poor Violet would return to Springfield. Lisa and Bart immediately began romantic relationships with Colin and Mary, respectively. The relationships would continue after they graduated from high school and went into college.

At this point of his life, the ever-mischievous rascal that was Bart would be softened up from Mary's influence, and he would start plans of becoming a lawyer. As for Lisa, she would plan to start a business specializing in the benefit of victims of abuse, especially child abuse. Maggie, on the other hand, would not attend college and instead start a successful rock band; she would become interested in the art of rock music in her teenage years.

Things would reach a turning point when Lisa and Bart graduated from college and married Colin and Mary. Lisa would own a business and have two daughters with Colin, Zia Eliza and Marjorie Allison "Marge Jr." O'Sullivan. Zia would be the spitting image of her biological grandmother Eliza, easily prone to anger, sarcastic, and treating her mother with contempt. Marge Jr., on the other hand, would be just like her adoptive grandmother Marge Sr., being caring and generous; Marge Jr. would even go on to dye her hair blue to show her favoritism towards her grandmother.

Bart, fulfilling his goal of becoming a lawyer, would also start a family with Mary, having one son named Bradley Homer "Brad" Simpson. He would be like both of his parents; rebellious and a troublemaker like his father, but kind and generous like his mother, and he would also be physically identical to his biological grandfather. A trademark of Brad's would be to beg his parents for a little brother, but these pleas would fall upon deaf ears, and Bart and Mary would cite that there was only room in their hearts for one child. Brad would also be an avid video-gamer, playing constantly and irritating his parents with his semi-addiction.

Maggie would go on to start a family of her own with one of her band-mates, named Gerald Samson. They would have a total of seven children together: Melody, Carla, Wendy, Sasha, Brittany, Ellie, and Adam. All seven would be nuisances, and combined, they would be absolute hell on their parents, but regardless, the two treasured them to no end. Homer and Marge would never have asked for any better grandchildren.

Homer and Marge would have great futures ahead of them as well. As said before, Homer had been promoted to full groundskeeper of Springfield Elementary School, and he found the best of enjoyment in this occupation, for this meant more interaction with the schoolchildren, especially Bart and Lisa. Bart would continue to call him by his real name just for the fun of it, as he loved getting onto his nerves. However, the two would still be close and treated each other like a true father and son. And finally, Bart would start calling Homer 'Dad', when Homer, finding out that the spiky-haired boy had accepted a dare to jump across the infamous Springfield Gorge, threatened to make the jump instead. Unfortunately, even after Bart decided to give up the dare for his adoptive father's safety, Homer would still take the jump, unwillingly so, and that event would be fondly recalled for decades to come.

Marge, in the meantime, would continue her job as a schoolteacher. Though Lisa would no longer be in her class when progressing into the third grade, the eight-year-old would still have near-constant interaction with her adopted mother by becoming Marge's assistant teacher. Three years later, Marge would receive an astonishing promotion into the position of school vice-principal. This would be a result of her avid participation in a teachers' strike that would erupt after Principal Skinner continuously, and even voluntarily refused to find a solution to the budget cuts that had been plaguing the school for so long. And when Skinner went into retirement over a decade later, Marge would take his position as school principal, and Springfield Elementary had never seen any better days.

Things would also do very well for everyone else they knew in the far future: Wendell, Allison, all of Mary's siblings, Ronaldo and Pepi, Patches and Poor Violet, Principal Skinner, Artie (not officially, but still), Apu Nahasapeemapetilon, Janey, Janey's friends, Nelson Muntz and his cronies, Dr. Nick, and even Ned Flanders and his family would all find their own happy endings.

...

Well, not everyone.

While Lisa and Bart were in high school, they would receive terrible news: Eliza would die during an attempted mass prison break. At first, it would be assumed she tried to escape with the other inmates and was one of those shot dead by prison guards, but it would soon turn out that she tried to talk down several inmates before being gunned down by one, ironically none other than Snake Jailbird, who would be shot to death minutes later. Eliza would be buried directly next to Brad, and during the burial, Lisa, Bart, and even Maggie would weep like they never did before. Until they would die, the three would take all of their children to visit their biological grandparents and tell sugar-coated stories about them, feeling that they did not deserve to learn the real truth about them.

Yes, the future would be both an exciting and harrowing experience for the Simpson family. But of course, they couldn't see into the future. They had no idea what could be ahead of them. But for them, it didn't matter. What mattered was that they were together, as a family. All it took was a couple of steps, and their future as a family would be permanently sealed...

"Ready to explore the house, kids?" Marge asked.

"You bet, Mom," replied Lisa.

And with that, the Simpsons walked toward 742 Evergreen Terrace together, ready to start a new life as a family.

* * *

_DIARY ENTRY #1  
__DATE: December 17, 1989_

_Dear Diary,_

_Hi, my name is Lisa Simpson! I have an older brother named Bart, who may be the spawn of the Devil, but can be kind and caring when he wants to; a baby sister named Maggie, who has just learned to speak; a father named Homer, who can't stop eating donuts and drinking beer and gets fatter and balder every day (for that, I both giggle and frown pitifully at his situation); and a mother named Marge, who has been there for me during my darkest days. __It's almost Christmas, and I asked Santa Claus for a pony. Bart requested a tattoo for Mom that reads 'Mother'. Mom doesn't seem to approve of the latter request._

_You know, I really wasn't a Simpson once; instead, I was a Thompson, and those were the darkest days I mentioned. My father, Brad, was never there for me when I needed him, and my mother, Eliza, insulted and hated me to no end. I wish I can explain to you the events that led to my transition from Thompson to Simpson, but if I were to do that, I'd practically be writing a book. But I don't wanna take all of this time, so I'll just say that I met Marge and Homer, and the two changed my life forever._

_I really don't have anything else to say here, other than these three words that will be my conclusion for this entry._

_Life is great._

_Love, LISA SIMPSON_

* * *

**A/N:** And...we're done.

...

Honestly, I just cannot believe it's done myself. I had spent so much time establishing and structuring this AU, and I completely fell in love with it. Now I have to draw the final curtain now. *sniff* Well, a writer's gotta do what he's gotta do!

I would like to thank those who took the time to read this:

**CMR Rosa:** You were my first reviewer for my first successful "Simpsons" fic. For that, I thank you. I don't know where you are right now, but I hope you will eventually see this. I sincerely hope to see your return; your reviews may be short (I know I haven't mentioned this earlier), but they are nonetheless inspiring.

**Perry is Cato:** One of my older reviewers here. I'm not sure where you are right now as well, but I thank you for reviewing.

**Ariddle-Ascare:** Same here.

**Da Darkest Knight:** I can't tell you how happy I am whenever I see your reviews. Sure, it applies for everyone else, but your reviews manage to pack a large amount of praise in a few short words. Thanks for reading!

**Galaxina-the-Seedrian:** You have been quite a risk-taker, reading a "Simpsons" fic despite your parents having to forcibly keep you away from that show. Obviously my stories mean more to you than following your parents' rules. I'm honored and quite humbled that you made that sacrifice.

**D.E.W.P.:** As with Perry is Cato and Ariddle-Ascare, you were an original reviewer who suddenly disappeared. I'm not sure if you're reading still, but I thank you for taking the time to do so.

**Hi14:** You were an on-and-off reviewer, and you were inactive recently, but I still thank you for your kind services. I wish you luck in your stories; you currently have two, but you are getting a lot of reviews in both. Sorry I couldn't contribute, for I am neutral to "Wrestling" and "Austin & Ally", but I still hope you become well-known in those communities!

**LORIKEET12:** Well, I tried to help you with your story, but apparently something went wrong and you're no longer active. I apologize sincerely; you were new and you were just a kid, but with a lot of potential! Your fic was looking good, and it's a shame you deleted it. I hope to meet you again someday! Oh, and thanks for reviewing!

**ptofan:** A one-time reviewer, sure, but your review still mattered, and I thank you for that!

**SideshowJazz1:** One of my devoted reviewers since Chapter 5, and always the first one to review by the time an update comes along. Ah yes, I thank you for reading my story even though it's not exactly Sideshow Bob material, of which you prefer. Of course, my thanks was most evident in my inclusion of this AU's Bob. So, I shower you with lots of thanks for reading this, and I hope to see you again in the review boxes of my next stories!

**Third Kind:** Another one-time reviewer, but your review was so detailed and so full of praise! I am pleased you loved this AU and believed it was unique from all of the others! I wish you luck in your own "Simpsons" fic, and I hope to see an update soon! And of course, I recommended your story in the above Author's Note, so consider that an additional means of thanks!

**A Face to a Name:** Oh, you! I'm so sorry this site kept deleting your stories. I'm not sure why the staff was picking on you, and I really wish they didn't. Your stories showed a lot of potential and promise. But I guess the staff's gotta do what they gotta do! Hopefully you achieve great success in your other stories!

**Vitani825:** I'm glad you reviewed this story! I visited your profile briefly and saw that you put my friend Narfy in your list of Favorite Authors. Not sure if that implies a friendship between you and her in the "Lion King" community, but if so, then Narfy's friends are my friends too! Thanks for reviewing!

**Sailor Pluto:** Hello, fellow writer! I'm glad you reviewed, because if it weren't for that, I wouldn't have discovered your amazing story! ...Which you have yet to update. By all means, take your time, but I still beg of you to remember to update!

**flowerchile8910:** As with Third Kind, you are a one-time reviewer with a review that totally blew my mind away with its description. I wish you would've reviewed more! But alas, you didn't, though I still thank you for that lovely review!

**Hi14 x:** Hm, I'm not sure if you're related to Hi14, but if you are, what a clever way to give more reviews!

**InTheNameOfHate:** For a guy who does things in the name of hate, you sure showed a lot of love of this story through your reviews! Thanks for the great reviews!

**I love Neville:** Ah yes, you. As a frequent reviewer, you are congratulated with showers of praise! La-la-la-la-la! XD Thanks, anyway, and I hope to see your name again in future review boxes!

**A Gay Elephant Named Jonathan:** You were a frequent reviewer who suddenly vanished on me. Wherever you are, I thank you for your kind services!

**Narfy:** Oh, you. Oh, you, you, you. I've known you for the longest time, and you have obviously been a great deal of inspiration to me in more ways than one, as seen in this chapter. You reviewed every chapter of the story (except for Chapter 1, but oh well!), and you put in a lot of description in your reviews. You pointed things out to me, which helped me to improve this story, and you were never afraid to show a lot of confidence in my future here. For that, I thank you for your kindness, and I hope I become a great writer here. Now, if you can only just update your new story, I can die a happy man. ;D

**Sideshow Cellophane 26:** Just like with SideshowJazz1, I thank you for taking the time to read this story even though it's not your style. But now I partially made it your style with Bob's inclusion, so...

**Bright101Eyes:** Just like with everyone else, thanks for the review! I wish you can post another "Simpsons" fic, for your one-shot "Homer" was just pure excellence!

**Comicbookguy666:** Ah, yes, on to you. I thank you so much for reviewing every chapter you can, and you've been a great help for me with your great reviews.

**King Kierain:** Oh, what can I say! Thank you for your review, which has inspired me to write a certain scene on this chapter!

And I'd also like to thank all of the guest reviewers and the thousands of people who read this story. I thank you all! I could've never asked for a better audience!

What's next for me in this community? Well, the next thing I was planning on doing was writing a fic where the power plant is held under siege by a gunman and Homer is injured, but I'm gonna postpone that, for I am still working on the story. Another planned project was that Wendell Borton-centric fic I've mentioned several times now, but I am still working on that too to ensure that a decent amount of people will read it. But the number-one thing I am working on is a top-secret project that I plan to publish when the current season ends. What the summary is, you'll have to guess for a while, 'cause I'm not telling! :D

So, what I plan to do next, for the meantime, is take my third shot at a sequel fic to the episode "Holidays of Future Passed". My first two tries had potential, but both ultimately failed when I lost interest. If you read those two stories, expect something different for my third try. I hope to see you all there!

TheCartoonFanatic01 is out. UNTIL NEXT TIME!


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